


Restart

by Vydante



Series: Male Reader Inserts [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Time Travel, Angst, Civil War Team Iron Man, Don’t copy to another site, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Extremis, F/M, Fix-It of Sorts, Friends to Lovers, Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M, Multi, Not Avengers: Age of Ultron (Movie) Compliant, Not Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Compliant, Not Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie) Compliant, Not Canon Compliant, Not Captain America: Civil War (Movie) Compliant, Other, POV Bucky Barnes, POV Male Character, POV Steve Rogers, POV Tony Stark, Reader-Insert, Slow Burn, Somebody Lives/Not Everyone Dies, Time Travel Fix-It
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-22
Updated: 2021-03-21
Packaged: 2021-04-19 11:34:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 15
Words: 51,051
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21894259
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vydante/pseuds/Vydante
Summary: Dr. Strange said there was only one possibility of winning the battle against Thanos.But when (Name) is forced into the past and into his younger body, he’s suddenly given the chance to start over and prevent the future from happening again.So which route are you going to take? Are you going to risk the future and take preventative measures, or live life with the Avengers for the next 4 years, knowing what will soon come?___Or, you're sent back in time and plan on fixing everything, all the meanwhile capturing (and possibly breaking) a few hearts along the way. (Male Reader!)
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Original Male Character(s), Peter Parker/Original Male Character(s), Pietro Maximoff/Original Male Character(s), Quentin Beck/Original Male Character(s), Steve Rogers/Original Male Character(s), T'Challa (Marvel)/Original Male Character(s), Thor (Marvel)/Original Male Character(s), Tony Stark & Original Male Character(s), Wanda Maximoff/Original Male Character(s)
Series: Male Reader Inserts [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1577140
Comments: 30
Kudos: 114





	1. Prologue

Fate was like a constant barrage of trick-or-treating.

Being the son of the infamous Tony Stark seemed to have been a pleasant treat with some annoying tricks.

Being friends with the Avengers was a cruel trick, yes, but you definitely had some of the sweeter moments of your life with them.

Having gone through countless fights and battles with them was definitely a bad trick, but the relief of knowing you made it through together was a wonderful treat.

You relished in the blissful idea that the Avengers were unstoppable, and for a moment, it seemed like it was true.

But then things changed.

Life became bleaker. More serious. And less of what it used to be. The stakes had gotten exponentially higher, and you seemed to have been walking on a tightrope.

You figured that if something had happened to you because of this, you’d be surrounded by your loved ones. And if you played your cards right, it wouldn’t happen until later in life.

What you didn’t expect was to have Fate come banging at your door at your most vulnerable; alone, scared, and terrified. No one to hear you, no one to rescue you, no one, no one, no one.

No one.

You have trick-or-treated with Fate for many years. Each treat was more pleasant after the other, but each trick was meaner than the ones before.

But by far, you thought bitterly, this was the cruelest trick Fate had played on you. 

But now, you’re given a chance to start over. A chance to reel Fate in by the throat and change it.

The question is: are you going to take it?


	2. Panic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Setting: ?

You were scared.

There was no way going around saying that.

Your muscles were burning and your ears were ringing.

Your eyes were darting everywhere, but all you could see was fire among the damage.

Where was everyone?

The rubble around your body bounded you to your spot, which didn’t help to add to your growing claustrophobia. 

You wanted to scream, but you couldn’t.

Even if what was the Avengers facility wasn’t lying on you, you were certain you wouldn’t even be able to move anyways.

You were paralyzed with fear. 

We fucked up.

We fucked up.

We fucked up.

That thought rang high in your head.

Your breathing was going short.

Your face is wet.

You’re crying.

You can’t hear much. Are you even making noise? No, you were definitely hearing something.

It was the blood rushing to your ears. 

And someone making noises.

It wasn’t you.

You tried to move your hands again.

You could feel your fingers moving. Though, you couldn’t tell what you were touching.

Your hands felt numb, but so did your whole entire body.

The noise is getting louder.

Oh fuck.

Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck-…!

You poked around for a bit, what with your trembling hands, anyways.

There was something round. No, cylindrical. It was small.

Your hand gripped it with a near vice grip.

You recognized it instantly, but the unfamiliar color didn’t catch your eyes fast enough before they snapped back to the black hole in front of you .

Your heart sped up.

The voice is coming closer.

They don’t sound human.

Shit.

It was growling. Clicking noises.

Oh shit.

You clenched your teeth.

You sucked in your breath.

You closed your eyes.

You heard the stomping of feet and the scuttering of claws against the concrete.

You crushed the small glass object in your hands.

And it all went dark.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Panic, then darkness.


	3. Disbelief

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Setting: 2013.

(Name) has read of stories where people who have died and then came back recounted what they had experienced. While all of the stories had varied from here and there, there was always something that they all had in common.

They saw something that was beyond the darkness- or rather, the lack of it.

They only saw nothingness.

When (Name) read those stories, he had a hard time grasping the idea of nothingness. He knew what darkness was, but nothing was a hard concept for the genius kid to wrap his head around, surprisingly enough.

But now, he was certain that the void was staring at him right in the eyes, and vice versa.

It was strange, really.

He couldn’t remember for the life of him what he was feeling before this, but he knew it was intense. But now, where he is, he felt nothing. 

He couldn’t see anything.

He couldn’t hear anything, say anything, feel anything… 

He wasn’t even sure if he could think.

“…”

What was that?

If (Name) had a head, he was certain that it would’ve spun a full 180 degree.

Was he hallucinating?

It was quiet, but if he strained for a bit, he could make out some words.

“… Thor…”

Thor?

(Name) knew he recognized that from somewhere; it was a name, but he couldn’t place his finger on it.

Was it the name of a past friend? Lover? Enemy?

He wasn’t sure.

“… No, Steve…”

Steve? Was that a name? It rang a bell, definitely, but from where?

There was a strange sound now. Is that someone laughing?

His hands were tingling now. 

Wait, what?

___

Your eyes snapped open as you gasped for air.

The once restricted lungs that held you hostage now open as you sucked in as much air as possible. 

Your hands reach up to your chest and throat as you cough and near spasm.

Everything had suddenly rushed back to you: you could feel the soft clothes that clung so tightly to your body instead of your iron suit; the once ash-filled air was now replaced with a familiar fresh smell; and instead of the echoes of scuttering feet and broken water pipes, it was just… Silence.

Other than your ragged breathing, that was it.

Just sweet, unnerving silence.

Your eyes tried to focus on your surroundings. It was bright, brighter than you remembered. Where were you? There were no signs of a ruined building, just… A room?

You grumbled audibly, which startled you. Did something happen to your voice? You were no Thor- he had one of the deepest voices you’ve ever heard, but you were also no Peter either- stricken with the curse of puberty and voice-cracks. But right now, you sounded a step away from him.

“Ahh…”

You spoke up quietly and knew something was deeply wrong.

This was not your voice- or, at least, how you remembered it to be. It was higher pitched and didn’t have the rugged feel you had known to recognize as yours. It was… More melodic, oddly enough. Smooth, not suffering from years of screaming and yelling into the comms.

It scratched at the back of your head- you wanted to recognize this voice, but you just could not pinpoint whose it was. Was it yours? You weren’t entirely sure.

You lifted yourself up from what you were lying on. It was… A bed?

The bed was big. Really big, actually- though, there was a noticeable dip near the center. There were white bedsheets and a few blankets on it. They all had Iron Man designs on it, which made you smile for just a moment.

You stood up and looked around the room. Your stomach buzzed with deja-vu.

The room was that of a nerdy teenagers room, simply put. The walls were littered with drawings and posters, of which you were beginning to recognize all of them. Some were bands you were familiar with, and others of videogame characters. A few new suit designs, and gadgets far beyond its time.

Your heart squeezed as you vaguely recognized them. You took your eyes off of them and examined the rest of the room

There was a desk tucked away in the corner. It was small for what it was, but that didn’t stop it from holding up all of the seemingly endless textbooks and journals that sprawled against it. The table was scratched up, too. Years of use, it looked like.

You hesitantly approached it and eyed the book titles.

‘Quantum Mechanics: Second Edition’

'General Relativity and Cosmology’

'Theoretical Astrophysics’

And those were just the few that were visible. You smiled at the textbooks, remembering that you once read them in their entirety and had a few all-nighters just finishing up one section.

Unironically, it was fun.

Your eyes traveled over to the journals. They had near unintelligible and not English alphabet writing to the naked eye, but you instantly recognized it as shorthand. 

What startled you was that you recognized that handwriting as yours. It was damn near chicken-scratch, which embarrassingly enough hadn’t improved by much as you had aged.

You narrowed your eyes. You scanned the surrounding area for more information. There was a backpack near your bed; flashy and had far too many pins and buttons on it. It… Looked out of place. Horrifyingly so.

Your face felt hot as a wave of second-hand embarrassment shot through your spine. You looked away quickly.

There was a bookshelf with a lot of books on it as well, and it was one of the only organized things in the room you were quickly starting to recognize.

You approached the bookshelf but immediately gravitated towards one specific shelf; the shelf that held many picture frames in it.

They were all of many people who you recognized: there was one where your team had won a state champion baseball game back in middle school. You picked it up tentatively as you looked at your younger self gingerly smiling.

You smiled back with melancholy, as you knew that smile that was pictured didn’t meet your eyes. You had won, and it was supposed to be a moment of celebration, but for you, it was one of your lowest moments in life. Your father was at his worst, and your mother was rarely in the picture.

Neither of them had ever congratulated you on your victory. You weren’t even sure if they had known if you won or not, or if you were even in baseball.

You put that frame back as you looked at the others.

There was one where you and your father had gone to a party. By then, you two had sustained somewhat of a non-aggressive relationship.

There was another one where you were with a girl you could barely remember. She was an ex. All you could tell was that the both of you seemed really happy in the picture.

Your eyes gazed along with the pictures, struggling to remember the context of them before a shine caught your gaze. 

Turning your head, you were greeted with a mirror.

You nervously gulped as your stomach dropped.

You approached the mirror and looked at the man staring you right in the eyes- or rather, yourself.

Your eyes were wider. Your lips were chapped to the high heavens. Your skin was just now freeing itself of acne and whatnot, but there were still traces of it. 

Your hand traced your neck. There were no scars there, something that you saw was missing. You were also a bit paler than you remembered, though you weren’t sure if that was because you hadn’t gone in the sun much or if you were just ill.

You were also a lot smaller. You weren’t the smallest; you were far taller than your father as far as you remember. But you weren’t as tall as you were before… this.

But the kicker to this was your arm. You tentatively traced your right arm as if it was a foreign object, and to you, it might as well have been a fake one. It was soft and warm, something you hadn’t felt in a while.

You were a bit slow to realize this, but you were certain now.

You were in your younger body.

“Ah, fuck…”

You felt around your body- your pockets, to be exact. There was nothing in the front- just pocket change. And in the back left was your wallet and in your right? Your phone.

You pulled it out and turned it on, only to have your assumptions be proven correct.

May 5th, 2013.

Ten years far behind from what you had originally remembered.

Your lips formed a thin line. You glanced at the door that led to the outside world- or rather, just the rest of the Avengers tower.

You hadn’t really been in the tower in a while since you moved out a year after the OG Avengers disbanded. While not all of the Avengers lived in the tower- Steve had his own apartment and Clint had his family to go back to, surprisingly enough- it just wasn’t the same anymore without seeing a few of them occasionally hang out in the main lobby.

Though, that never stopped you from working with them on missions.

But that being said, you could barely remember the layout of the tower. After all, it’s been, what? Nearly 7 years since you stepped foot in the tower?

You gazed at the door for a little longer and tentatively approached it.

You rest your hand on the door handle but paused. If this was 2013, then Ultron had yet to happen, right? This should be right after Loki and the Chitauri’s, so that means…

“J.A.R.V.I.S….?”

Though your voice was quiet, your eyes welled up when you heard the familiar voice you hadn’t heard in a while.

“Yes, Mr. Stark?”

Your lips trembled and your hands clamped down on your mouth to hold in any noise.

J.A.R.V.I.S. had always been special to you. When you had moved into the Stark Tower, Tony… He wasn’t exactly the best of father figures to you. He was constantly on the move and never gave you a second glance; that was reserved to the women he paraded himself around before he had met Pepper. And while you had friends in school, J.A.R.V.I.S. was the only one that was your friend outside of school.

He kept you busy, he was the voice of reason to you in your most… Concerning fits. He was the one that told you stories to get you to rest, and he was the one you could truly confide in knowing that you’d receive no judgment.

And while you were upset that J.A.R.V.I.S. had been 'killed’ and used to create the basis of Vision, you quickly grew a fondness for the man as you took comfort in his objective and well-meaning actions, even if they were awkward sometimes.

… Most of the times, actually. But they were nonetheless endearing.

He was special to you as he was to Tony as well. And while you were beyond heartbroken when you had witnessed the death of Peter and the Guardians, you also realized something that tore you apart even more.

Thanos must’ve killed Vision to get his hand on the last Infinity Stone.

So to hear J.A.R.V.I.S.’ voice once again, though disembodied, it threw you for an emotional loop. You sniffed up the last of your tears and smiled sadly.

“… I miss you, J.A.R.V.I.S..”

It was quiet but held in 5 years worth of emotions. Sadness, happiness, guilt…

“… I do not know what you mean, sir.”

You chuckled quietly and shook your head. 

“Don’t worry about it, Jar. Do you know where the- the Avengers are?”

Your voice was caught in your throat midway through your question. That sounded so foreign to you- the Avengers? Even when you all had gathered together to go time-traveling, you had never considered that as the Avengers anymore. It was just a rag-tag team that wanted to restore the universe to its glory again.

Though that was exactly what the Avengers was, it… It just… It wasn’t the same. And you were sure it would never be the same.

That was, until now.

“They’re currently in the main lobby. Would you like me to notify them that you will be joining them soon?”

“No- no, that… That won’t be necessary.”

You opened the door and stepped out.

The air was cool- if you remembered correctly, 61 degrees Fahrenheit. You never really knew how to change it at first, but by the time you did you had gotten used to the cold. Plus, this usually made sure no one else would stay for long.

It was nice at first, but you eventually found yourself never really going to your floor of the tower anymore, other than to sleep. It got too quiet and lonely, and being alone with your thoughts was scary enough.

You walked down the halls and towards the elevator. There were a few pictures and sculptures that decorated the halls, but there were a few you had made and collected in the future years that weren’t there yet.

You reached the elevator and pressed the number that led to the main lobby, though that led you to a different floor. It was… The Stark laboratory. You remember you had your own, but not in this year. Maybe it was in 2014? Not that far ahead. But as far as you could tell, you were still using your dad’s lab to do your tinkering. That brought a smile to your face, remembering all the times you messed with each other’s mess.

It was fun.

But now’s not the time.

You fumbled around with the buttons before you got on the right floor- or you assumed so since there were people talking oh so loudly. The elevator dinged and you stepped out. 

It smells weird but homey.

You swallowed the lump in your throat.

You walked into the hall and heard the voices get louder. They were all much brighter than you remembered. Louder, too. And… There was laughing.

Your hands were trembling as you slowly approached the corner. You knew that right over it was… It was them.

“That’s absolute nonsense, Thor. How do you even do that? Is there a- a battery in your hammer? Supercharged each night?”

“I doubt that- there’s no plug, and I doubt it’s wirelessly charging.”

That was Tony and Bruce, no mistaking it. You smiled. Bruce sounds weird now, since you were used to, well… Professor Hulk speaking? 

“Well, it is not my fault I am a God; I can do many things that are beyond science, my dear friend!”

“Bullshit.”

Thor and Clint. Laughter followed it. They sound happier.

“Well, I believe him, as much as I’d rather not.”

Steve. His voice is different. You frowned when you realized how… Lively he sounded. When was the last time you ever heard him sound happy? It’s been too long.

“Well, I’d have to say I agree with Steve here on this. Sorry boys.”

Your throat went dry. Natasha. 

Oh, Natasha…

Your eyes were burning again. You looked up so they wouldn’t fall.

While you are definitely hearing them speak right behind you, there was still a tiny sliver inside your heart that was screaming at you.

This was too good to be true.

They aren’t here, alive, in 2013, all together and happy.

They aren’t chatting happily here. You’re just dead and stuck in some sick form of purgatory. They’ll be taken away soon enough. This… This peace… It won’t last long.

But there was another part of you that wished desperately that whatever you had crushed in your hands really did send you to the past. You hoped that it was a way of the universe giving you another chance to not fuck it up this time.

And you prayed deep in your heart that this- this whole thing… That was what it was.

Another chance.

You inhaled as much as you could. You gathered up your courage. And got off of the wall.

You walked around the corner, and damn near broke down when you saw the Avengers all sitting on the couches, laughing as if there wasn’t a single worry in the world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You've woken up in your 17-year-old body in 2013, and freak out.


	4. Off

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Setting: 2013

While you and Tony had a rough few years together- you as a rebellious and reckless child, and Tony as a neglectful and near deadbeat father-, ever since he became Iron Man he had gotten progressively better and more active in your life; with the help of Pepper and occasionally Happy of course.

And ever since you obtained the suit and mantle of Apex, which you’ve since changed it to just your name in later years, you two have definitely bonded more. Though, you two did have the occasional rough bumps here and there. But they say that fights only made your relationship stronger.

Tony would even dare say that he practically knew you like the back of his hand, especially since you two share the Stark gene.

But now, he’s not really sure about that anymore as he watches your hunched figure scribble incessantly over a journal. 

You seemed to not have noticed your father standing in the doorway to your room. You were far too preoccupied with whatever it was that you were writing down to notice, and if you did, you didn’t show that you cared.

While this wasn’t out of the norm of you to be unaware of your surroundings, it was because you typically had loud music blasting; mainly to annoy your father.

But your room was filled with nothing but your pen scratching against your journal. No music, no TV, no background noise.

That made Tony feel cautious. He could normally tell how you were feeling depending on the genre of music you’d play, but he didn’t know what complete silence meant.

Were you angry? 

Tony did yell at you a couple of days ago. You had been especially reckless on the last mission and had nearly gotten crushed by a falling building. Though you both knew you kind of deserved it, you were as hard-headed as your father. You didn’t take the reprimand well and had a yelling match that led to Steve and Clint dragging you two apart from each other.

Though you normally didn’t hold grudges, you still could.

Maybe that explained the silence?

No, Tony knew that wasn’t it. If you were angry, you’d have locked the door. But it was wide opened in the first place.

So what was it?

As Tony kept thinking silently, he hadn’t noticed you lean back and stretch. You turned around and saw Tony behind you.

“Jesus-!”

Tony snapped out of it and saw you stare at him with wide surprised eyes. Your eyebrows furrowed as you placed your hand on your chest jokingly.

“Dad, don’t stand there like a creep- say something why don’t ya’!”

Tony smirked and went towards you. He patted you on the back and sat right next to you on your bed.

“Sorry to scare you champ, just thought I’d give you a moment writing in your diary- or diaries, it seems.”

You sent him a smile; one without any malice in it, which unnerved Tony a little bit. You swerved a bit in your swivel chair- you must’ve gotten a new one just now since he doesn’t recognize the new color. Did you get a new desk too?

“What’s up pops?”

Tony mocked shivered and rubbed his hands.

“It is so cold up here- how do you not get frostbite from this?”

Tony jests, but in reality, he was trying to see how you would respond to him joking around. If you were still moody, you’d scoff and flip him off like usual. If you weren’t, you’d joke back at him.

You raise an eyebrow and stood up. You walked over to your doorway which had the thermostat next to it.

“I swear I turned up the temperature yesterday- is the AC not working?”

While you fiddled with the AC, Tony was confused.

That was not the response he was expecting.

He has known you for nearly your entire life, and not once had you ever changed the temperature on your floor of the tower. It had always been staggeringly cold, but now that Tony thought about it, it wasn’t as cold as he had remembered it to be. 

Tony stood up and approached you.

“Hm, no, it says 72 degrees,” you muttered quietly.

You jumped when you felt your dad’s hand on your shoulder. You turned around and looked at him.

“Hmm?”

Tony had an unreadable expression on.

“(Name), are you feeling okay?”

Your expression clearly said you had no idea what he was talking about. Tony sighed and motioned you to sit down, which you did. He sat down in front of you on your bed once again.

“Is it from that fight a few days ago? I know I can be harsh, but you know that I only want the best for you, right?”

You still had that dumb expression on, if not it was even worse this time. Tony raised an unimpressed eyebrow and waved his hands around. As serious as he wanted to be, the sarcasm had to come through one way or another.

“Y'know. The mission we had. In Washington. You almost got injured badly because you were being dumb. And I yelled at you for it when we got back. Hello- does that not ring a bell to you?”

He was exasperated; he was starting to think that you must have sustained some type of brain damage for you to instantly forget about something as recent as that. You always remembered every single detail, even the ones Tony would rather you forget.

This was concerning if he was being honest.

He thought you might have been at least ticked off from remembering that fight, but all he got was a smile and understanding eyes.

“Oh, that! Yeah, don’t worry, I deserved that. Totally.”

While your words say that you remembered, your eyes said it loud and clear.

You didn’t have a single clue what he was talking about.

Tony didn’t know how to respond. But he was just glad that you weren’t mad at him. He stood up and you watched him with observing eyes. 

“Anyways,” Tony knew there was no point beating a dead horse, so he might as well move on, “What’ve you been writing these days? Filled up a bunch of journals, huh? Especially with that… Fancy handwriting.”

Your shoulders instantly stiffened.

“Oh, that, uh- just some notes for class.”

He looked at you, silently asking permission to go through your stuff. Last time he did that without your permission, you nearly tasered him had it not been Clint that intervened.

You scooted away from the desk and let him have a full view of your notes.

Much to his annoyance, it was all in shorthand, something he could surprisingly not read. It wasn’t that he can’t, he just never bothered to learn. Then again, it might be because this was your one way of keeping a secret from him. In a world where security was getting scarce, he might as well let you have that one thing to yourself- shorthand.

Though, he can say that you definitely wrote a lot- enough to fill a few journals. Granted, there were a lot of pictures and diagrams, and a lot of pages seemed to be ripped out.

The trashcan right next to your desk- when had that been there?- was overflowing with crumpled up paper. He took one last glance at the journals and hummed. He wasn’t going to pretend to know what they were about.

“That’s a lot. You’ve been getting yourself busy with studying, huh?”

“Yeah, gotta cram for AP exams, you know?”

Tony lingered a little longer but gave his son a smile. 

“You better not fail, okay?

He didn’t say another word as he left your room. You were smiling as you went back to work, unbeknownst to Tony’s worried thoughts about you.

_"Something’s wrong with him, I know it!”_

_Bruce looked at Tony with an exhausted expression. He took off his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose._

_“Maybe he’s just going through a phase or something- he’s still a teenager Tony.”_

_Bruce watched as Tony rolled his eyes and pace back and forth. He had been in his section of the lab minding his own business when Tony had busted through in a mild frantic about his son._

_“He’s gone through many phases before, but they all last around 5 years each! The introvert phase, the Hulk phase,” Bruce sighed, knowing that that phase was when you were especially angry at your father, “The emo phase, and now the rebellion phase! He’s still got a few more years till the next one comes around- so why’s he acting weirdly now?”_

_“Maybe your theory about that 5-year phase change is wrong?” Bruce offered, but he was only met with another eye roll._

_“I’m never wrong- besides, he’s my son. I know when he’s not being normal.”_

_While Tony and Bruce bickered in the lab- more like Tony ranting about what the new phase is and Bruce reluctantly listening-, a certain super soldier had just so happened to pass by the lab and heard them talking about you._

_“What’s all this about (Name)?”_

_Tony spared Steve a glance. _

_“Aren’t you supposed to be somewhere else? What, did Fury not give you a new mission?”_

_Steve sent Tony an unimpressed raised eyebrow. Bruce spoke up._

_“Tony thinks something’s wrong with (Name). Says he’s acting weirdly.”_

_“How so?”_

_“He turned the temperature up. He's never turned the temperature up!” Tony exclaimed. _

_Steve leaned against a nearby table and crossed his arms._

_“Maybe he’s had a change of heart. Can’t be that major.”_

_Steve hadn’t known you for long, though he already had a general idea as to your personality and habits: you were similar to your father as much as you’d say otherwise. You were also hardheaded and rebellious, which was a bit of a pain when you were sent on missions._

_“He also forgot I yelled at him. You should’ve seen it- he looked like I told him that magic is real!”_

_Steve looked down and stifled a smile._

_Bruce shook his head._

_“Maybe he had a concussion.” Bruce offered._

_Tony pointed his hands at Bruce with an exaggerated expression._

_“See? That’s what I thought too!”_

“J.A.R.V.I.S., get this out of my face.”

Just as the live camera footage was once in your face, it quickly left as J.A.R.V.I.S. said a quick ‘yes sir’.

While you thought you had put up a good front in front of Tony, you knew he wasn’t a fool. Besides, he was just as good as an actor as you were; you both knew something was up with the other.

And while you were glad that he just thought you were going through another phase- hearing Tony mention your 'emo phase’ gave you damn near second-hand whiplash- you knew this wasn’t ideal.

After finally coming to terms that you had been sent to the past, you didn’t know what to do. What you did know, was that you needed to write down what had happened from the new now- 2013- to the old now- 2023- just so you hadn’t forgotten.

You’re nearly done, but there’s just one part of your memory that had escaped you. What had really happened before you were transported to this timeline? There was an explosion, you were stuck, and then… You crushed something…

You shook your head. It didn’t matter, for now, it’ll come to you eventually.

Thankfully you’ve never gotten out of the habit of writing in shorthand, so when Tony peered at your journals you had easily played it off as studying for AP exams. Though, you weren’t sure which AP exams you even had right now.

Your lips were held in a firm line and your eyes were narrow. 

You were more than conflicted. Should you act how 2013 you would? Or should you try to mold this timeline into a timeline where you all win?

For now, you’ll see how it goes.

Few days had past and by now, you were acutely aware that the rest of the Avengers knew something was up with you. Even if they were being subtle, you’ve known them for longer than they would ever know.

Natasha had been trying to encourage you to talk more, saying how you should know that you shouldn’t be afraid to talk to her about things. You did know her for longer than the others; she did introduce herself to you and your father when she went by the name 'Natalie’. Though, you weren’t sure if that counted since she was undercover.

Bruce, Clint, and Steve tried to be more like what you interpreted as a father figure to you- not that they weren’t trying to do that beforehand, anyway. Though, Clint was especially worse than the others, considering he has children… Not that the Avengers knew of yet.

As for Thor, he didn’t hide it that well. He checked up on you more often than usual and lingered around a bit more. You appreciated him trying, but the big guy was starting to get a bit tiresome.

And your father… You had forgotten how annoying he could get when he’s worried.

“You want some juice? Maybe milk? Or are you craving for some coffee right now? God knows where we’d be without it.”

You sighed and rubbed your head. You had told Tony you wanted your own laboratory on your floor and while it was under construction, you had no choice but to move your work area to the Stark laboratory temporarily. Though, he hadn’t stopped bothering you ever since you entered the lab.

“Dad, no, I’m fine-”

“You sure?”

“Yeah.”

Cold and standoffish. If you remembered correctly, that’s how you acted around this time. You winced, not liking the way it came out of your mouth. As much as it pained you to be an asshole to your dad, you needed to get him off of your back.

Tony furrowed his eyebrows.

“(Name)…”

You looked up at him, swiveling your head fast enough to look like a jerk. You frowned and stood up.

“Look, dad, I don’t know what you’re thinking right now,” lie, you do. “But you need to get off my back. I’m fine, okay?”

Your heart aches a little to see your dad frown. You wanted to punch yourself for being an asshole right now. Jeez, how much of a jerk were you when you were actually 17?

“You sure?”

While it wasn’t noticeable, you clenched your fist when you heard how smaller he sounded than before. It was slight, but it was there.

“Yeah, whatever.”

You turned around to not look at him and sat back down at your table. You wanted to turn around and hug the poor guy. He’s done too much for you to be treating him this way, even if you have to.

Tony looked at the back of your head with both worry and relief. While you seemed to be back to normal now, he might’ve made you angry again.

Both of you sat in the lab silently, an air of awkwardness looms over the both of you.

But neither of you had time to sulk quietly before Steve stormed through the lab. You snapped your head at him with wide eyes. He had his shield on his back while wearing his uniform- that obnoxious blue suit would’ve made you laugh but this was serious.

“Tony, (Name)-” he looks at you with a hard expression, “We have another mission. Suit up.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You try to get your shit together, but the team's lowkey suspicious. Steve barges in and suddenly there's a mission.


	5. Mission

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Setting: 2013

“We have a lead on recent H.Y.D.R.A. activities. Normally, they’d send two or three of us, but from what we’ve heard this one might be bigger than we think.“

You weren’t looking at Steve but instead at the information in front of you. You were all sat in the quinjet while Nat was flying it. They’d usually take turns and sometimes they’d let you pilot it, despite the fact that you didn’t even have a drivers permit yet. You either walked, flew, or had someone drive you to where you needed to be. Though truth be told, even if you weren’t secretly a nearly 30-year old adult in a teenagers body, you knew how to drive anyways.

You were next to your dad, who was also looking at the information. And while all of them were discussing what the mission was, you were busy thinking.

_‘H.Y.D.R.A.?’_

You hadn’t heard of that name in a while. While you were more than confident that the group was still up and running in your original timeline, you had stopped joining all missions regarding H.Y.D.R.A. You left that to the government and lived your life as peaceful as can be. 

But now that you were reminded of H.Y.D.R.A., you remember that S.H.I.E.L.D. had been infiltrated by the enemy group. That caused an uproar among the United Nations. Because of that, it was one of the reasons why Steve was so against the government taking control over the Avengers.

You furrowed your eyebrows.

What should you do with that information? Should you take that up with Director Fury? Would he even believe you? Perhaps you should go to Strange. He’d probably know what you should do; he probably already knows that his timeline’s been jacked. 

But… If your sense of time is correct, then chances are Strange isn’t even here yet- at least, with the wisdom of the temple folks and time stone. Perhaps there’s someone else who holds that wisdom? After all, Strange had to get it from somewhere.

But what if they didn’t want to help you? Then should you just remain silent as H.Y.D.R.A. quietly steered S.H.I.E.L.D.’s head in their goals?

Your head snapped forward when you heard Tony call your name.

“(Name)!”

You glanced at him.

“Yeah?”

“You listening?”

You nodded and stood up. You positioned yourself over the map on display and cleared your throat.

“So, Hulk and Thor tank the front line while Black Widow and Hawkeye flank the rear. Captain, Iron Man and I head into the building and take care of each floor, hall, section, whatever. One of the floors holds the files we need, and if our information is right, then it’s not on the first 4 floors. As far as we know, there’s more than a few hundred enemies, soldiers, and non-soldiers alike. No civilians in a 130-mile radius. Anything I miss?”

After your mess up with Tony a few days ago, you made an effort to remember all of the missions from then on, which going on these missions helps with jogging back your memory. This one was easy to remember; Steve chewed you out for not paying attention when you were in the quinjet and you had been pissy for a while afterward. 

You even stole and hid his shield, much to everyone’s annoyance when the next mission came around.

You glanced at the rest of your teammates as you finished your recap of what you assumed Steve said. They were silent and looked at each other.

Steve coughs into his fists and looks at everyone else except for you. 

“Well, I couldn’t have worded it any better.”

You mentally cursed. Steve didn’t say anything about the plan. Shit.

Natasha walked up to you and patted your bicep.

“Well said. Boys, we’re approaching the enemy base.”

Steve nodded. You all positioned yourself as the quinjet lowered itself onto the ground. If your memory serves you right, you should know what you should be doing. This should be easy. Your helmet snapped over your face and you stood there silently. 

The entrance opened and you were greeted with the fresh patch of snow and silence.

You will admit, the nano-tech suit spoiled you silly. It was, by far, the best damn suit that you had ever made and now that you were without it, you had to hulk around in this bulky suit. You grumble quietly.

There were no extra thrusters, barely any heating, and barely any stabilizers, so you were constantly shaking around as you flew. No extra cannons, no armor regeneration, no nothing. And it made you put making a secret nanotech suit on the top priority of your list. 

You knew you’d have to make a greater effort to conceal it. But since all you need was a housing unit for the nanotech- your dad preferred the one over his chest while you went for one around your neck- you’d just have to adapt for now. Maybe you’ll make the base as a watch, or something.

Reminiscent of your dad’s nanotech prototype. 

But for now, you’ll just have to deal with this clunky iron maiden suit. You were lurking around the corner, having already breached the first few stories, and watched as Steve was on the opposite corner from you. Your dad was watching out for any stragglers on the lower floors. Outside were sounds of screaming and gunshots, and the thunder from Thor’s hammer. Chances are, Hulk and Thor probably burst through their 2nd line of defense by now. 

_“Apex, you read me?”_

That sounded so unfamiliar coming from Steve’s mouth. He hadn’t called you that ever since you disowned that nickname. And even now, you remembered that he’d sometimes slip up and calls you by your name.

“Yeah.”

You glanced over at him. He sent you a hard look and nodded over to his left. You glanced over and saw a staircase. While everyone in the building had already gone out to see the commotion, some had stayed and lingered behind. As far as you could tell, there were around, what, 30 plus? Not too bad, considering you and Steve were there, but it’d be a hassle nonetheless. 

You heard your dad speak over the comms.

_“Cap, Iron Kid, I’m heading up.”_

Your lips quirked upwards at the nickname. And in true fashion, you heard the faint sounds of his blasters powering up.

_‘Weee…! Weee…!’_

They were such ugly sounds. Funny, but… You were just glad the noise got upgraded.

Lord knows the number of memes and edits people tagged you in on social media.

Thankfully the guys still around were too busy yelling to notice your dad living it up on the lower level. It all stopped. You raised an eyebrow at Steve, who only sighed.

“So, what’d I miss?”

You jumped and glared at your dad, or as best as you could with the helmet covering your face. He was crouched down in a similar position to you. You saw your dad’s face pop up on your U.I., and rolled your eyes at his smug face. You turned around and mumbled into the comms.

“Not much. Around 30 or so guys. A bunch is armed. There’s a staircase across the room.”

Your dad nodded. Clint spoke up in the comms.

_“Hey, we’re gonna need you guys to hurry it up there. Not sure if the other two are gonna join us back here, but if he isn’t then we don’t have that much time left.”_

In the back was a bunch of gunshots, echoing the ones you just heard then and there. You met eyes with Steve and he nodded.

_“Apex, you head straight for the staircase and go up. Iron Man and I will take care of the rest. Files should be straight ahead. Get it, get out. No horseplaying. On the count of three.”_

_“One.”_

Tony squatted and prepared his blasters. His face disappeared from your unit hub when you glanced at your U.I.

_‘Thruster Percent: 89…’_

_“Two.”_

Steve readied his shield. He nodded and leaned forwards. You got into position as your U.I. was blinking red.

_'Thruster Percent: 97…’_

_“Three!”_

You shot off immediately. The enemies head had turned in your direction, but all they saw was what they thought was Iron Man flying by them and to the staircase.

“Shit, stop hi-!”

Steve threw his shield at him and swung at another soldier. One aimed at him with his gun but was knocked back by Tony. He grunted. 

“On your left!”

Steve knocked his elbow back, colliding it into an enemy’s face. His shield magnetically attached itself back on his arm as he deflected oncoming bullets. Steve rolled his shoulders as he stared directly into the barrel of a gun.

“I can do this all day.”

You were still hovering above the floor as you made your way through the building. Strangely enough, each floor before was loud and filled with people. But the door leading from the staircase was locked from the outside, so it made sense that the floor was silent. The only noise you heard was either from the outside or from the floors below you.

You flew through a few floors until you reached what seemed to be the last one. You blew the hatch open and cautiously walked in, your thrusters out and ready. The screens were off, but you didn’t want to trigger anything by turning them on; for now, you left them alone. 

You settled down onto the ground as you carefully scanned the area. As far as you could tell, your signals weren’t picking anything up. Though, that didn’t mean that pit in your stomach lessoned any bit.

Something felt off.

“Hn, I don’t like this…” You muttered quietly to yourself.

You carefully searched all of the tables and cabinets but it wasn’t until you were deep into the floor did you finally catch a break.

“Sir, on your 5," J.A.R.V.I.S.’ voice spoke up quietly.

Your eyes scanned to your right. 

There was a table next to you that was stacked with paperwork. You carefully approached it. You shuffled through them and scanned each one.

No, no, wrong one, no, no…

Aha.

In your hands, you held a hefty and beaten folder. There was no label, but searching through its contents you founded exactly what you needed.

You held it with a vice grip and prepared your thrusters to break through the ceiling. You got what you needed, and now was the time to dip. But in the corner of your eyes, you spotted a coffee cup.

It was still steaming.

While it wasn’t the toughest thing, beating a group of 30 plus people was a bit of a hassle for the two superheroes. Steve was barely breaking a sweat as he picked his shield back up. He glanced around as all he saw was the beaten bodies lying still. Some were struggling to get back up, but Steve just hit them with his shield and they were down for the count. 

While they were done here, judging by the sounds of gunshots and screaming from outside, the others were still busy.

Steve glanced around the room.

"Iron Man?”

“Over here.”

Steve turned to see where he was, and Tony was holding up an enemy by his shirt. He looked bloody and bruised, and it was clear that he wasn’t going to stay conscious for long. But what bothered Steve was that he had an expression on his face that only said one thing.

Victory.

“What're are you smiling for, soldier?”

Steve spoke up and approached him with his shield in hand. He squared up to the soldier, but he didn’t seem the littlest bit intimidated by the super soldier.

The soldier smirked and chucked, but coughed up blood.

“You… You think you’ve w-won…”

Steve couldn’t see Tony’s expression, but he could tell that he was rolling his eyes.

“And why is that?”

His eyes were glazed, and Tony wasn’t sure if he was looking at him or not. Either way, he didn’t like his expression.

“Those gunshots…”

He chuckled quietly. His nose was bleeding by now. Tony listened closely to those gunshots and Steve’s eyes widened, his stomach dropping to the floor. The soldier shakingly holds up a finger and points it to the ceiling.

Now that Tony thinks about it, they’re a lot closer than they were before. There was thudding, and a sound that rang familiar with Tony too well.

_'Wee…!’_

“… Where do you think they’re coming from?”

Tony finally realized it. He shot his thrusters in the soldier’s face and knocked him back to the wall. Steve was already in a full blown sprint to the staircase. Tony shot his thrusters and raced towards the upper floors.

“(Name)!”

Tony called out to you through the comms, but he only heard nothing. You didn’t reply back, and that sent slight waves of panic through his skin.

What if something had happened to you? He’d never forgive himself for letting his only child get hurt. What would he tell Pepper? The rest of the team?

While Steve didn’t doubt your fighting capabilities, you were still a child in his eyes. You were also reckless and had only so much experience on the battlefield. 

_“What happened to the child?”_

Thor’s voice rang through the comms. He was grunting a bit as the sound of Mjolnir hitting against a body echoes in their ears.

“He’s been ambushed; he’s not answering us.”

Steve grunted as he sprinted up the stairs.

_“Okay, we got our job done back here, I’ll head up and Nat will get the other guy.”_

Clint says.

_“As will I.”_

Thor responded back.

They didn’t respond as they both made it up to the floor above them and saw that the door had been busted through; the sides were melted and still radiating heat, probably from your thrusters. 

They headed up a few more floors, and each one only made their anxiety worse until they reached the door, which was locked. Steve tried to break the lock by slamming his shield on it, but Tony had to blast it open.

“(Name)!”

While they were expecting to be greeted with an intense struggle, they instead found unconscious bodies lying everywhere, and in the middle stood an unscathed and dumbfounded (Name).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The team's on a mission, and you get jumped. It's all fine, really.


	6. Prototype

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Setting: 2013

You lie on your bed silently contemplating. The others had already settled down in their respective homes, and so far the only Avengers still in the building was your dad and Steve, who was also still here, but it was around this time that he’d usually go back to his apartment. He’s probably finishing up sending the report to S.H.I.E.L.D.

Yesterday’s mission had been a success, but that didn’t mean it never left the back of your head. You will admit, you can’t remember every single detail of every mission you went on, but you definitely knew that the mission wasn’t supposed to go the way it did.

_“Look who we have here, a baby Stark.”_

_The door slammed itself stuck as a heavily accented voice spoke up._

_You turned around and held a neutral stance as you were surrounded by around 40 or so enemies. They all held guns- a few even had knives, strangely enough._

_A pit formed in your stomach, all of your senses screaming at you that this was wrong. You didn’t remember this happening. You were supposed to get the file and go, no hassles, no fighting, no nada. Nothing._

_This wasn’t supposed to happen._

_But you had to keep face._

_“I think you mean the superior Stark.”_

_Even if you were severely outmatched, especially with a 1-40 ratio, your sarcasm was one of your most successful defense mechanism. They couldn’t see it, but you were slightly panicking underneath your helmet. The only thing they could sense was the snarkiness in your voice._

_The guy in front- he seems to be the leader of the pack behind him- spits on the floor and holds his gun point blank at your face._

_“Let’s cut to the chase. Come with us quietly, and we won’t hurt you.”_

_You eyed the blinking words in your U.I._

_‘Thruster Percent: 98…’_

_You shakingly smiled and raised both of your hands, making the man smile- he seems a bit too happy, maybe he thinks that he actually intimidated you._

_Though you were a bit scared, it wasn’t because of them per se. You breathed in and out._

_You’ve faced worse. You’re only panicking because this wasn’t planned for. But you’re good on your feet- you’ve fought worse._

_40 guys with guns- which can’t even penetrate your armor, though it can damage it- is nothing. Besides, you’ve fought an overpowered grape with balls for chins and lived, so this shouldn’t be that much of a challenge._

_You sighed with a regained sense of confidence. He’s lowering his gun. He thinks he’s won._

_“When has that tactic ever work?”_

_You shot your blasters straight at him as they all raised their guns. Their leader crashes against the guy behind him as bullets start flying at you. You flew into the air as you made sure to keep the folder from being hit._

_You shot left and right as the bullets pelted themselves at you- some missed, some didn’t._

_You shot a continuous beam and turned a full 360, taking down a significant amount of guys in one go._

_'Structural Integrity: 92%…’_

_You will admit, that did take a punch at your pride knowing you were getting shot at a lot. You launched your body at a huddled group, knocking almost all of them out as you roundhoused kicked, one guy._

_You grunted as you heard your dad call your name over the comms. He sounds panicked. Your comms were off as you were a bit busy right now. You knew you should probably respond back, but being surrounded by a bunch of guys made talking seem like kind of a bad idea right now._

_You grunted as someone elbowed you in the head, but you launched forward and headbutted them._

_So far, only a fourth of their original crew still remains. You grabbed one by their neck and slammed them into their buddy. You feel arms wrap themselves around your neck, but you scoff._

_As if that’d do anything._

_You huffed as you hit the back of your head against the guy’s head._

_There was only a few of them left, and they were all the more easy to take out. Just a few punches and blasters in their faces- not literally, that’s just cruel- you soon found yourself surrounded by piles of bodies, some obviously alive and some… You weren’t too sure._

_You took your helmet off and panted as you scratched your head._

_Now that the storm was gone, now you were just left with questions._

_What just happened? Was this supposed to happen? Or was your memory just failing you right now?_

_But before you had time to even think any more, the sound of the door opening with great force brings you back to reality. You turned around with a dumb look on your face, meeting your dad and Steve’s equally dumb expression on his face. All of you were panting as you spoke up quietly._

_“Uh, hey guys. I got the folder.”_

You don’t remember being ambushed like that. After all, if you know yourself- which you did- then you know that teenager you wouldn’t have been able to handle that many enemies at once.

Of course, you’re more experienced and knew how to handle them- you’ve handled worse before.

For sure, you would remember being severely injured from the mission, but nothing came to your mind. All you remembered that, obviously, the mission was a success, but never at your cost.

You shook your head and turned to your side. Maybe your memory was just lacking. After all, it had been nearly a decade since this particular mission; it wasn’t like you were going to remember everything.

But it still lingered in your mind. You sighed and sat up, feeling restless. For now, you’ll just have to brush that aside.

“J.A.R.V.I.S., is anyone in the lab right now?”

“No, sir.”

Good.

You had a lot of goals you needed to complete, and the first one was making your nanotech suit. You will admit, it was going to be difficult given that 2013 tech simply isn’t what it is 10 years into the future. Maybe you’ll start small- perhaps you should try to recreate your dad’s prototype?

You cautiously opened the door and glanced around. You made your way down the empty building and into the lab. The lights automatically turned on as you made your way to your section, and cracked your knuckles. You glanced at a nearby clock.

_‘11:28 PM’_

You hummed.

It shouldn’t take you that long. If 2023 Tony can figure out time travel in under a day, 2023 you can make a nanotech watch in under 12 hours. All that matter is the supplies.

Morning rolled around and Tony was in the kitchen, his body still sore from the day before. He brewed a cup of coffee and quietly sipped on it as he checked the monitors as he normally does. Pepper was still in bed as Tony was feeling restless for once. As he swiped through each camera recording, there seemed to be nothing unusual going on. He wanted to make extra sure though.

“J.A.R.V.I.S., give me a diagnostics. Anything changed?”

Tony hummed as the familiar voice rang through the kitchen.

“Just the usual, sir. However, (Name) has been in the lab for the whole entirety of the night, sir.”

He raised an eyebrow.

“Pull up the camera footage.”

“Of course, sir.”

The monitor appeared out of thin air and in front of him. The camera was facing your back as you sat hunched over a table. Your surroundings looked like a mess, with exposed wires and plenty of metal plates scattered everywhere. Your hair was a mess, and judging by your clothes you hadn’t changed ever since you got home.

And even though there was sound on, Tony could barely hear anything. Just the sound of Dum-E going buck wild, and in the corner of the camera view, he seemed to be waving something around. Was that a plastic hand?

“What’s he doing?”

J.A.R.V.I.S. was quiet. J.A.R.V.I.S.’ voice echoes through the camera, and he sees your head pop up to answer J.A.R.V.I.S. quietly. Tony struggles to hear it.

“… He says he’s working on homework, sir.”

Tony rolled his eyes. He grabbed another cup and poured coffee into it, knowing very well that you hadn’t drunk or eaten anything in hours.

“Yeah, sure. Tell him I’m coming down there.”

“Of course, sir.”

Your heart sank to your toes as you heard J.A.R.V.I.S. relay what Tony told him to tell you. You scrambled as you tried to pull something out to make it look like homework. You dug your hand in your cabinet as you pulled out a bunch of unfinished projects.

You were getting frustrated and just pulled something out, no matter if it wasn’t what you wanted and found some dingy project- it looks like a mini version of Dum-E with a crudely painted “Smart-E” doodled on it.

You tossed it straight on your table.

You glanced at your watch and in a panic, you slapped it around your wrist as you struggled to buckle it tightly on. You had just finished with it and was running through the settings and schematics of it, but you’ll just have to do that later. Just as you finish getting it on your wrist, your dad walked into the lab.

“Guess who has coffee?”

You sent him a tired and anxious smile. You hadn’t seen a single person ever since Steve dropped by last night to say his goodbyes, so seeing someone alive after being alone for so long was weird for you.

“Someone’s up early.”

You murmured as your eyes lingered on the steaming cup. He came around your desk and settled right in front of you. He handed you your cup of coffee to which you gracefully took. He smirked at you.

“You’re one to talk, Mr. Late Nighter. I’d thought being on the battlefield yesterday would’ve tuckered you out.”

You rolled your eyes as you took a sip of coffee. You nervously twitched as you placed your hand in between your thighs as if you were cold.

“I’m young, I’ve got energy. You guys are just old. What do you need?”

He placed his hands on his chest.

“What, can I not visit my child while he does his… homework?”

He questioned your Smart-E as you coughed quietly. You will admit, it looked pretty stupid for it to be ‘homework’.

“Yeah, it’s more of a personal homework though. Nothing for school.”

You cringed as your voice cracked midway through. Your dad held back a smile. Puberty, he probably thought.

“I can tell.”

You kicked him, making him laugh as he swiveled around in his chair. He may be old, but he still has plenty of spirit in him for him to be giggling like a school girl.

You placed your cup down on the table and lifted Smart-E into the cabinet, even though you just took it out. Chances are, the poor thing’s not gonna ever see the light of day again.

Your dad was silent for a moment, his eyes tracked on your wrist unbeknownst to you. He took another sip of his coffee as you closed the drawer.

“Nice watch. Didn’t take you for a watch guy.”

You jumped.

“Wha- what watch?”

Your eyes snap to your wrist and you laughed. You tried to think of the best lie possible, but the only thing that popped up was something that made you cringe at how bad it sounded.

“Oh, this thing, it’s uh, the Apple Watch! Yeah, Apple Watch… Just bought it recently, haha.”

Confusion flashed over Tony’s eyes, but it was quickly erased with humor. He smiled and stood up as he stretched. He strolled over to the entryway as he yelled back at you.

“Leaving so soon?”

You called out to him. Though you did want him to leave as fast as possible so you can continue with your work, you will miss him a bit.

“Well, there’s a meeting today so I gotta wake up Ms. Potts. We’ll head over in a few hours. I’d ask you to come, but you have class tomorrow. Catch up on those Z’s and quit staying up late!”

The door shut as you were left sitting in your seat confused. You pulled out your phone and skimmed through your calendar.

_'Isn’t tomorrow a teacher workday?’_

Unbeknownst to you, Tony head through the halls quietly with an equally as confused expression as you. He scratched his head as he entered the elevator.

_'What's an Apple Watch?’_

You finally finished finicking with the last settings on your 'prototype’. You will admit, it does look just like an Apple Watch- you may or may not have owned one in the later years, having finally given into the Apple ecosystem- but the OS isn’t it. It’s disguised as a watch, and yes it does function like one, but pushing the right buttons pulls out the nanotech stored inside.

You looked at its final form. Similar to your dad’s prototype, it looked like a skin-tight glove with metallic plates fitted around it. It just has a different color scheme- your color scheme. 

So far, it has just about as much as you could try to fit in the thing. You just pray that you don’t have to use it around your dad, otherwise you’ll have him breathing down your neck as to what was in your watch.

The watch transformed back into its natural state as just a watch. You securely tightened it around your wrist as you sighed and stretched.

You cleaned up your station and as you were leaving the lab, you heard J.A.R.V.I.S.’ voice through the speakers.

“Sir, Ms. Potts is calling you down for dinner.”

You raised an eyebrow.

“Already?”

“It’s 7 PM, sir.”

You took a glance outside the window, and it was indeed getting dark.

You sighed quietly as you turned the lights off in the lab. You thought to yourself as you made your way down to the dining area.

You suppose that, for now, you’ll just have to resume life as the normal teenager (Name). At the end of the day, you still had your duties as a high school student to keep up with, even if you were an Avenger- especially one from the future, at that.

You just pray that you remember how to act like a teenager when tomorrow comes round.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You think about what just happened and work on nanites.


	7. Chat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Setting: 2013

In all honesty, you didn’t remember school being such a nightmare as it was.

“Ugh…”

You trudged into your room and dropped your backpack onto the ground. You just got home and headed immediately to your room. You collapsed straight into your bed and sighed, feeling all of the tension in your neck unravel as you stretch.

“Hnnng…!”

Groaning out loud, you turned on your back as you stared at your ceiling. There’s faint music filling the background noise- you might’ve forgotten to turn off your headphones. You lied there, contemplating.

A week had passed ever since that mission. Not much had happened since then. You got reacquainted with your old friends, resumed school life, and tried to act normal as best as possible.

Of course, it was almost the end of May, which for you meant cramming for classes that you haven’t taken in literal years. Exams really were coming up, and you just prayed that you’d even have enough time in your schedule to study.

Even though, theoretically, your schedule shouldn’t be as tightly packed as one would think- since you’re not ‘Avenging’ anything and your dad let you off from joining him in his work to study- it just is.

But it all boiled down because of your seemingly fruitless research.

Specifically, research into where the time stone is right now.

You remember that, when you went to time travel, there had been a point where 3 infinity stones lied in New York- 2012, to be specific. It was the mind, space, and time stone. But it was 2013, and besides, you were mainly interested in the time stone, really.

Dr. Strange, who in your timeline had held the time stone, must’ve gotten it from somewhere, probably relating to whatever magical temple thing he went to.

You had slaved over nearly the whole entirety of what the internet could offer you. If anything, had it not be for the programming in your computer system, you were sure you’d be put on a watchlist of some sort from the type of things you were researching.

You grunted and rolled to your side.

There had been at least one lead, and that led you straight to Nepal, strangely enough. Something about a place that helps the broken, physically and/ or mentally. But even then, the post you found barely said anything about it.

Maybe it had to do with something like therapy? Or something medical? Strange was a doctor before, so he must’ve at least a connection to some insider knowledge…

You shook your head. You didn’t really know and didn’t care much for now. Your mind and body in itself, ironically, was tired.

A nap sounds really tempting right about now…

You will admit, you may or may not have spent an ungodly amount of research and talking to doctors and the like to finally find what you were truly looking for.

You sat back and stretched, finally taking your eyes off of the screen from what was hours of hunching over and typing.

You glanced outside your window. It was dark with only the lights of the city and your computer illuminating the walls of your room.

All of your research finally led to one really good, but painful sounding lead. There was a temple named Kamar Taj. As it turns out, your original lead was right; it is located in Nepal and from what you were told, the doctor you spoke to had known a friend who went there in order to help with their mental issue and came back healthy than ever before.

But, considering that Strange came from that temple, it was probably magic and junk like that.

You closed your laptop and all of your journals that you documented all of this research in. You sighed and mulled over it quietly. 

You needed to go to China and head to the temple… But it was vague, where it even was. And besides all of that, you needed to find a reason to tell your parents that you were going to China.

Of course, you can’t just walk up to them and tell them,_ 'Hey, I’m going to China because I need to meet someone with a green magical rock!’._

And it’s not like you’re an adult right now with no obligations; you’re a high schooler.

You have classes to attend, homework to finish, projects to start for next year… Perhaps during the summer, yeah, but even then you’re not sure that you can fit that in your schedule.

Maybe next summer?

Your eyebrows furrowed; you wanted to get your questions answered quickly, so that wasn’t an option…

And even then, you couldn’t guarantee that someone there, even if they had the stone, would be willing to help you. And what would you even ask? How would you even approach the subject?

All of this was making your head throb painfully.

You jumped in your chair when you heard a knock from behind your door. You swiveled around and got up, just as J.A.R.V.I.S. spoke up.

“Mr. Rogers is at your door, sir.”

“Yeah, could’ve guessed.”

You had changed your door to be a frosted glass one, so you could tell it was Steve by the broad shadow and slim waist. Your lips quirked up- you always called him Doritos man when his back was turned away from you.

“(Name)?”

You abruptly opened the door and was greeted by Steve’s wide eyes. Judging by his newly cleaned clothes and wet hair, he probably just got done with training and showering.

“Oh- hey.”

“Hey yourself, Steve.”

You smiled and opened the door wider, stepping back to let him in. He entered as he whistled quietly, looking all around your walls. You stood near your desk as you silently eyed him.

You ran your thumb over your arm, slightly scratching at your wrist.

“You’ve kept yourself busy these days, huh.”

He looks at a wall that was plastered with suit designs, some even having designed for your future Mark-93, which was the go-to model of your suit.

Granted, that one was technically either Mark-22 or Mark-94, depending on which timeline you were going off of…

Though you will say, there’s a _huge _technological leap between Mark-21 and Mark-22.

But while they were all underneath the other designs, you knew Steve couldn’t really tell them apart. You needed to get them all down and into your new lab, which should be finished by the end of the weekend.

He glanced down at your table, filled with journals. There was one about your research, a few for school, and the rest for your own little history book of your timeline. You recently just finished it, and now you needed to just… Get it off your desk. 

His lips quirked up a bit more as picked a few of them up. He probably thought you had a hoarding problem or something.

“Yeah, had a few ideas for some new tech, nothing new.”

Steve glanced at you for a split second. Was he nervous?

“I, uh, wanted to talk to you. About the last mission.”

You bit your lip as you dug your nails in your wrists, scraping away at the layer of skin as it turned an angry red.

“Oh, what about it?”

Steve sat down at the edge of your bed. You instantly thought back to when Tony had confronted you a few weeks ago. You sat down slowly, keeping your cool as he stared at you with those steely eyes.

Were they ever as unnerving as they are now?

“Back when we were in the building. And you had gotten… Ambushed.”

His shoulders were hunched as if he had a lot of tension in his back. His voice was quiet.

“Even though you handled the situation, I just… I want to say that I’m sorry.”

Your eyes widened. You sure weren’t expecting him to say that.

“Sorry? What for?”

It was funny, in your opinion. Last time, with Tony, you were confused because you didn’t know what mission he was talking about. This time, you knew exactly what the mission was. You were still confused, though.

“For letting you get ambushed. I should’ve known that there were going to be a lot of bad guys there, and I… I feel awful for letting you fight all of them alone. I’m sorry.”

For a split second, you felt your stomach churn when he said that. You fighting them all alone…

Memories of him flooded your mind.

_'What if we lost, cap? What then?’_

_'Well, we’ll lose as a team- together.’_

He always reassured you that you’d go down together as a team. That memory warmed you, only momentarily as something else rushed back at you.

The fight at Titan.

You remembered how it all lead to that. How the Avengers had been split. Those damn Sokovia Accords. You remember watching the light in Steve’s and Tony’s eyes changed as they looked at each other, already knowing their decisions at heart.

You remember how you told them explicitly that you didn’t want your second family to break apart. How Steve himself said it won’t.

You foolishly trusted him at the time- maybe it was the naive child in your heart that didn’t want to face the harsh reality.

You remember the fight at the airport. How that had marked the end of what you knew as the OG Avengers.

And at Titan… How you had all fought so valiantly, but it just didn’t amount to anything.

How you two were separated when you lost almost everything. Pete. Your friends at home. Humanity’s faith in their heroes. Your pride and dignity. Hell, you even lost your own…

You glanced away from Steve as you rubbed your arm tenderly.

It was burning.

“It’s cool, Steve. No bad blood. But thanks, for the uh, apology.”

You lied, hidden shame dripping from your words.

In your timeline, and even now, you were still bitter over the fight at the airport. Bitter for finding an injured and nearly frozen Tony at the old H.Y.D.R.A. base. Bitter for being lied to, about losing as a team. Bitter because Steve had thrown away everything you had given him. Your trust, your hope, your deepest secrets… Everything.

Of course, you aren't as bitter as you were at the moment- after all, years had passed since then-, but you were still bitter nonetheless.

To the point where you made it obvious during your timeline; you wouldn’t speak to him- and everyone who sided with him, even Natasha, much to your regret- unless it was business. You ignored every advance he made towards you, didn’t respond to his small talk, etcetera.

Was it immature? Yes.

But did he ever apologize to you, even when he had more than literal years to do so? No.

All he did was walk back into your life as if nothing had gone down between you two. And what hurt was that it was all purely because it was business related. He didn’t come back because he wanted to fix the relationship between you two.

It was because he _had _to.

Not because he _wanted _to.

Granted, one side of you understood that he was still on the run, but just… You would’ve even taken the smallest of hints that he at least thought about you.

At that point, you being bitter was more because he had never attempted to make amends with you rather than what he had done to your dad- at least with him, Steve had apologized, he did, but with you?

You got nothing, and you were hurt.

Your father was more forgiving of them- even inviting them in for lunch when they first approached your parents’ retirement home for business. You would be lying if you didn’t glare daggers at them the whole time, especially at Steve.

The air was tense. It was like both of you shouldn’t be here, in the same room, together. But neither of you got up before Steve spoke up.

“You know, I- we,” Steve coughed, “We were surprised, you know? There was a lot of guys in there.”

You could tell the poor guy was trying to lighten the mood. Change the subject, you suppose. It was much needed, especially between the two of you. You knew this Steve didn’t deserve to be around you while you were moody because of his future self.

That wasn’t fair.

“Really? You think I can’t handle myself?”

You teased. Steve smiled at you, the tension in the air becoming less thicker than it was before.

“Honestly speaking? Not really.”

Steve chuckled as you shoved him playfully with a fake-offended 'hey’. You smiled at him, almost relieved. You rubbed your wrist as you pulled down your sleeve to cover the red marks up. 

“And I told him I was fine, but he didn’t believe me and did it anyway!”

Your body shook with laughter as Steve chucked with you.

You two had been talking for a while now, and it had progressed from the mission to Steve reminiscing during his time before he was a frozen. He was telling you about how Bucky would fret over him since he used to be a sickly guy. Always getting into trouble, as well. 

Some things just never seem to change, especially in the future.

“Can’t really blame the guy, can you?”

He shook his head with a reluctant smile.

You’re leaned back on your chair as Steve’s half sprawled across your bed, only his elbow propping him up as he rolls his eyes.

“Not really… Though I would’ve appreciated if he had let me do my own thing.”

A comfortable silence filled the room. Your eyes wandered over Steve’s relaxed position. It was rare you ever got to see the man not worked up; he was always either training or trying to keep up with the world, which objectively is hard work.

“I don’t really think I ever told you this, but…,” You quietly spoke up as Steve stared at you with curiosity, “I always liked hearing about, you know, your life before being frozen.”

Steve perked up with a surprised smile.

“Really?”

You hummed quietly and closed your eyes. You nodded your head side to side as Steve eyed your peaceful state.

“Yeah… offer’s insider knowledge of a different time without talking to a bitter old person, you feel?”

Steve was silent, but not for long.

“Well… Is there anything you wanna hear more about?”

You opened your eyes just a tiny bit and pursed your lips. You squinted at him and hummed loudly.

“Hmm…”

What was there to know more about Steve? You already knew more than you’d like, and while you wouldn’t mind hearing Steve repeat the same story once again, you’d rather hear something else.

“Anyone that was special to you?” He opened his mouth, “Other than Mr. Barnes?”

You chuckled when he shut his mouth again with an eye-roll. The guy always took whatever chance he got to ramble on and on about Bucky, even though you secretly didn’t really mind it.

You were trying to fish for maybe someone else other than Bucky- you already knew first hand how special he was to Steve.

Steve thought for a moment before he spoke up again. His voice was soft as he smiled and looked at his hands.

“Well, there was this one gal… Her name was Peggy. She was my best gal.”

“That’s… That’s rough, buddy.”

Steve half-smiled at you.

He told you about Peggy, who was a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent during his time. Apparently, he had fallen in love with her and promised her a dance right before he, well…

You clicked your tongue.

“Well… It’s not really… Healthy, to you know, be hung up on people of the past, you know?”

You knew that first hand. The first few months after the snap, you were teetering on the edge of madness as you grieved heavily for your lost friends.

It was… A rough patch in your life. Never before had you ever gone so near to the brink of no return before your family- the ones still alive- had managed to reel you back in just on time.

While you knew that Steve was strong and that it wasn’t really the same thing, it still wasn’t that pleasant of a feeling to still be dependent on someone you once knew.

Though, it did just now occur to you how bad that sounded when you were just greeted with silence from the super soldier.

“Of course, not to say that you should forget her altogether, I just… I-”

You tried backtracking, but Steve shook his head with a smile.

“No, I get it. Actually, Natasha’s been trying to help me with that. Moving on.”

You raised an eyebrow. This was the first you’ve heard of this- you knew they were close, but you would’ve never thought _that_ close. 

You supposed that during that long timespan that you never really saw Natasha and Steve, they could’ve gotten _real _chummy together, but… Something still bugged you.

“Wait, hold up, I thought Nat was into Bruce?”

There was a pregnant pause between the two of you. 

It was- so you thought- mildly well known between everyone on the team of the weird tension between Banner and Romanoff. Always sending each other looks under the table, the sly smiles- there was no _way _she wasn’t into Bruce.

Hell, even in the future, there was still the tension between the two of them- even if Bruce was, like, triple the size he was before.

And green.

Steve felt conflicted. What in the world are you talking about? He was quiet for a short moment before his eyes widened wildly. He stifled a chuckle as his shoulders shook.

“(Name), no, what I meant was she was trying to get me to date other people.”

Your lips were pressed in a thin line as your eyebrows shot up.

“Oh, welp-”

You couldn’t help yourself as you laughed along with Steve. The previous weight in the air from the topic of Peggy was lessoning a tad bit, just like earlier.

You two calmed down just a little bit, but you still held a toothy grin as you licked your lips.

“Well, has it been working? Any fine gals that caught Mr. America’s attention?”

You teased him. You wouldn’t really be surprised if he said no- he doesn’t really seem like the type to go prowling around for someone that interests him.

He’s quiet as he glances at you. His jaw clenches as you’re locked in a staring contest- granted you didn’t really know why. He trails his eyes off of you as he stares at your wall absentmindedly.

“I wouldn’t say that necessarily…”

He doesn’t really look at you as silence settles in the room once more, though you can’t really tell what the mood of the atmosphere in there was.

He glances at your clock and smiles. It’s a goofy looking clock- it looks like it’s made for a kid- that has a miniature version of your Apex suit. The quality was obviously rushed, and chances are you probably bought it from a Target or something. Maybe Amazon.

“Well, I should get going by now. Heaven knows the amount of work we _both _need to do tomorrow.”

You groaned loudly when you were reminded of tomorrow. Another day of school for you- though, you didn’t know what he had going for him tomorrow. Maybe a solo mission from Fury?

Either way, it was getting kind of late and you both needed some shut-eye.

You watched as he got up from your bed and rubbed his shoulder tenderly. You didn’t blame him- being in the position he was in, it definitely does a number on the shoulders.

You rolled your eyes as he groaned exaggeratedly. You slid down your chair just so you could stretch your legs and kick him in his knee pit.

He didn’t buckle, much to your annoyance, as he chuckled when he saw you almost falling off your chair like a child.

“Ouch!”

“Oh, you’ll live, big baby.”

“Oh, _thanks _for your words of encouragement.”

He laughed as he opened your door and as he was almost out the door, he popped his head back in as he remembered something. You raised an eyebrow as he had a cocky smirk on his face.

“Oh, and for your performance back at the last mission- I’m upping your training regiment. Good job, champ.”

His head dipped out of your door as you nearly fell off of your chair. The door slammed as you hopped over to your door and yell out your room. You watched as Steve’s figured disappeared over a corner, his laughing echos through the empty floor.

“Wha- hey no! That’s illegal! Ste- get back here! _Steve_!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You're thinking about getting answers with the mystics. You and Steve talk; you're not really over the whole Civil War incident and the bullfuckery he pulled off. Either way, it gets lowkey gay. Very. Lowkey.


	8. Summer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Setting: 2013, then 2023

“Summer’s supposed to be a time for relaxation, (Name), not a time for working all day and night in your lab.”

You swiveled around in your chair and pointed a screwdriver at Pepper, who stood at your door with a cheeky smile. You waved it at her dramatically and tilted your head.

“Correction: summer’s a time for me to do whatever I please, ma.”

You set down the screwdriver and stretched lazily. She walks up behind you and sets down a bowl of fruits, freshly cut. Your eyes lit up as you snatched up one of the slices and nibbled on it. She ruffled your hair playfully and you reluctantly let her mess with your updo.

“Thanks.”

She winked at you as you went to grab for another slice. She whistles as she spun a full 360 just to look around your newly built and furnished lab. It was large but felt homey, with all of the nicknack plastered everywhere and a few couches and beanbag chairs in random corners.

“I will say, I love what you did with the place. See you took my advice with the walls and flooring.”

You hummed quietly as you grabbed a few more fruits from the bowl.

She helped you with the floor planning and made a few suggestions- some of which you took, others you didn’t. You were originally going to go with concrete floors and walls, but you thought about how it’d look, and well…

“Momma knows best, I guess. Didn’t really have any other choice- it was either that,” you motioned to the, admittedly, nice looking wallpaper and tiles, “or nothing, and I’d like for my man-cave to not actually look like a cave. Or, at least, better than dad’s.”

His wasn’t ugly looking, not by a landslide. But you did want to have bragging rights over whose lab looked the best, and if you were being honest? Yours is definitely in the lead. 

“I just have to hang up a few more things- maybe have some LED lights on that corner over there, and I’ll be done with decorating the place.”

“No, you’re not. If you want it to look better than Tony’s, then you’re gonna have to do a bit more decorating than _that_. Hey- say what, let’s go shopping soon- mother-son day. I’ll take you out to buy some more decorations, and maybe we’ll go eating afterward.”

“Oh? And what about dad? You know how he gets when we don’t invite him to stuff.”

You remembered the one time you took Morgan out to the park- nothing special, she was just feeling antsy and wanted to fly a kite and pet dogs- and he kept making offhanded sarcastic comments once he found out.

_‘Yeah, watching that movie sounds fun, almost as fun as that time our children went to the park without us.’_

_'I can guarantee you it’ll be a great experience with all of us together- and not just half of the family because excluding them would be rude, right (Name)?’_

He wouldn’t let it go for weeks, much to both your amusement and annoyance. 

You grabbed a few more fruits before there were suddenly none left. Ah, shoot.

“Yeah, well, he can live without us for a few hours.”

She grabbed the empty bowl with an impressed smile. Your cheeks turn an embarrassing pink, but you ignored it.

“If you say so.”

You shrugged, doubting that he’ll be fine if you two leave without him. It’s not like he’s gonna hurt himself while you’re gone, he’ll just be mildly grumpy and sassier than normal once you come back.

She leans over to give you a quick hug before heading out of your lab. She turns around and calls out to you one last time.

“Anyways, I’ll leave you to it I guess. Don’t forget- family night. 7 o'clock sharp.”

“Yeah yeah, I’ll be there. See ya.”

You watched as her figure disappears behind the frosted windows, and you swiveled around in your chair again for a few minutes in silence before speaking up again.

“Imma take a nap.”

“It is in your best interest not to sleep right now, sir. You have a meeting scheduled at 7.”

J.A.R.V.I.S.’ voice spoke up from above. You rolled your eyes at how formal he made your plans for tonight sound. You clapped your hands dramatically and the lights followed suit, dimming down where only the light from the hallway light illuminated your lab.

“Meeting my ass, it’s just family night, Jar.”

You walked over to the beanbag chairs- they were too huge to be chairs, but still- and plopped right on top of them. You grunted and shed off your shoes. You grabbed a nearby blanket as J.A.R.V.I.S. spoke again.

“Regardless, Mr. Stark.”

You rolled your eyes and snuggled into the beanbag. You made sure to set an alarm for 6:30 so you wouldn’t miss the family night and closed your eyes.

“Oh, one nap won’t hurt me. Besides, I’m a pro at afterschool napping. Been doing it since '08 baby…”

_“What happened in that one scenario, the one where we win?”_

_You glanced over at your father as he interrogates Strange. Your eyes traveled over to the guardians and Peter, who was watching Mantis do slow summersaults. The sky is burning your face, but you say nothing of it._

_Was it always this hot?_

_“If I told you… It wouldn’t happen.”_

_Your father sighs with frustration as everyone else tenses up. Peter was stood next to you now and said something you couldn’t catch. You tried to look at him, but you couldn’t make out much other than his messy hair. His face is… Blurry._

_No, that’s not the right word…_

_“Goddamnit…” Your dad gruffly sighs and runs his hands through his hair. Your attention snaps back to him, and you raised an eyebrow._

_… When was his hair dirty blonde…?_

_Everyone seemingly dispersed, unsatisfied with the answer. You turned around, but they were gone. It was just you and Strange. For some reason, something compelled you to linger around for just a little longer._

_“… It’s not an outcome I would hope for, you know…”_

_You raised an eyebrow._

_“What do you mean?” You ask as the hairs on your neck standing straight up. Your voice was a bit deeper and sandpaper-like. You hadn’t heard yourself- your true self- speak in a while, so it startled you._

_Strange’s head is hung low and his voice is quiet when he speaks up. His veins are bulging out his head… Are they…_

_Are they moving?_

_“… Even if I could tell you, Stark, you’d be one of the last people I’d tell that to…”_

_While he says Stark, you know he’s speaking directly at you instead of your father. He holds his breath before looking back up at you, eyes burning with… Regret?_

_You suddenly feel your throat close up on you as your hands claw at your throat. You tried to speak, but instead, you choked on your saliva as you reached out to Strange for help._

_This… Feels familiar…_

_“And besides…”_

_He stands up and approaches you. You feel your stomach drop as he towers over you now, skin bulging out of his robes. It bubbles and moves unnaturally as the world closes in on you._

_No… No, no, no…_

_This isn’t right._

_This…_

_What’s happening?_

_He leans in close to your face as he grips your skull tightly with one hand, another on your arm. His face distorts into another face, one that brings nothing but several sleepless nights. Horror races through your veins as his nails start digging straight into your arm. _

_You try to claw at him with your other hand, but it didn’t do anything._

_He starts pulling, hard, on other your arm as you could only silently scream. A sickening snap echoes in the silence of this planet._

_Thud._

_Your feet rise from the ground as he lifts you by his cruel hold on your head._

_Everything hurts._

_Your arm hurts._

_You can’t feel it. Your other hand, the one you can move, immediately reaches over to your shoulder, but only the cold breeze greeted your hand._

_What…?_

_Your vision was getting dark as the lack of oxygen was taking its toll. _

_You could only focus on his face as it distorts even more, from the fleshy hue to a sickening wisteria. His lips move, forming words but nothing comes out. You can’t make out… What he’s… Trying to say…_

_Ah… The side of your body feels warm, but your body shivers…_

_It’s faint, but the smell of metal creeps in your lungs._

_Shit…_

_Your head is spinning too much…_

_Gotta… Stay… Conscience…_

_As you quickly lose your grip on reality, a voice rings through your head and makes your ears throb painfully._

_“I…”_

_It wasn’t Strange speaking._

_It was deeper, menacing…_

_“… Am…”_

_And laced with triumph._

_“… Inevitable.”_

Your eyes snapped open as you gasped for air. You breathed erratically as you tried to catch your breath. You pulled away from the beanbag chair as you had your face buried deep into it. That was probably why you couldn’t breathe properly.

What the fuck was that?

You could still feel your heart race a million miles an hour, the blood rushing to your ears almost blocking out a familiar noise.

“Ding! Ding! Ding!”

You shakingly look to your side and your phone was there, the flash going off like crazy. You reached over and turned the alarm off. You chucked your phone back down and leaned back into the beanbag.

“What the shit…”

You ran your fingers through your hair and scratched the back of your head as you closed your eyes, trying to get yourself together again.

While you will admit, you were diagnosed with PTSD from that horrid day, it hadn’t acted up in a while now, and you hadn’t a single clue what triggered it. Maybe it was because you were suffocating from sleeping faced down? You’re not too sure.

Either way, you tried your best to calm your breathing and shed the blanket off of you. Your clothes stick to your body uncomfortably and you felt both cold and hot. 

“Sir, are you alright? Your heart rate has spiked within the last 5 minutes and you’re perspiring more than normal by 300%.”

You groaned quietly and rubbed the back of your head, feeling a stress-induced headache coming on. You glanced over to a cabinet a few feet away and saw a familiar red bottle. You got up, put your shoes on and shuffled over to it and dumped a pill out from it, all the meanwhile grumbling.

“Ugh, maybe I should’ve listened to you earlier; no more nappies…”

You squinted in the dark laboratory and trudged to the door, bumping into a few table corners here and there.

“Ow… Ow… Ow- fuck.”

You finally reached the door and opened it, the hallway light too bright for your eyes. You still hold onto the pill and made your way to your room to make a change of clothes- these ones are too gross feeling.

“God, I hope they didn’t pick a loud movie…”

“They picked Predator, sir." J.A.R.V.I.S. piped up, voice sounding suspiciously cheery.

"Ah, seriously? _Of fucking course_, it’s a loud ass movie.” You rolled your eyes but instantly regretted it as it made your headache worsen.

While you were still shaken by your nightmare, you pushed it to the back of your mind and hoped that spending the night with your parents would take your mind off of it. 

Somewhere, in a newly built yet messy building, sat two tired men. Around them were piles and piles of paperwork, all of them blurring into a bundle of nonsense that led to only one ultimate end point.

A conclusion that neither of them wanted.

It’s been weeks since the incident at the old building. People were reunited, the threat had been eliminated… There are people just trying to get back onto their feet, some are trying to reorganize the world back together, others are helping their community; all in all, everyone’s just trying to move on… but not them.

Not just yet.

“It doesn’t make sense.”

The blonde throws a file onto the pile next to him. More information had come in, more intel, but none of them were helpful. They all pointed to one conclusion, and it was one that he wasn’t willing to accept anytime soon.

The other one looks at him with obvious frustration in his eyes. His wrinkles had gotten even deeper somehow in the past few days alone. He could feel the blonde’s irritation, and while he would normally tell him to take a breather, he’d be lying if he wasn’t feeling the same way about this.

“We searched everywhere. Every square inch of the rubble, the battlefield- hell, even his own house! And what came up? Nothing. Nada. Not a single trace of him.”

“He’s got to turn up somewhere, Bruce, I’m not giving up.”

Bruce lets out an exhausted sigh as he glances over at the holograms, eyes lingering on one a bit too long before he moved on.

**'Natasha Romanoff: K.I.A.’**

“As much as we keep searching, it’s likely… It’s likely we’re not gonna find what we’re looking for… Chances are, he might’ve…”

Bruce doesn’t finish the sentence, already knowing that he was walking on eggshells with the blonde when it came to him, especially after right Tony’s funeral…

While they had all healed up to the best of the abilities, in their hearts was where the wounds are still fresh.

“I don’t care, I know he’s not dead! He… He was just… Right next to me… I….”

“I know, Steve…”

The soldier’s shoulders sag as he feels all motivation and hopes slowly seeps out his body. He collapses onto the chair behind him as the faces on the holograms taunt them. While a majority of them had been updated now- anyone who had gone with the snap had come back- not all of them were updated for the better.

**'Tony Stark: K.I.A.’**

“He’s not dead… I just… I just know he’s not…”

They all sat in silence. In front of them, while only a few haunts them, one hologram makes Steve want to sink further into himself. 

A headshot of an all too familiar face shines back at them, sharp eyes staring straight into the window of their souls. His lips curled in a smirk, almost sneering at them in their face for their failure. Bruce sighs and looks away as he enters new information under the file.

“It’s been weeks, Steve. If he hasn’t turned up now… Chances are, he won’t turn up ever.”

Steve looks at the eyes that taunt him beyond words. It’s almost as if he’s ridiculing the soldier, and at this point, he doesn’t blame him if he was. 

He doesn’t look too long into them as the pressure builds in his chest. He holds his head in his hands as he feels Bruce approach him and rub his back in support.

Steve shakingly sighs.

“God… What the hell am I gonna tell Pepper…?”

The text underneath the headshot changes one final time from a soft blue- a blue that has been there since the very beginning- to a deep, permanent red.

**’(Name) Stark: K.I.A.’**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You build your own lab, have a PTSD-fueled nightmare, and wake up to have movie night with mom and dad. Skip to 2023, and the team's forced to declare you dead weeks after the big fight.


	9. Nepal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Setting: 2013

“Excuse me?”

“I do not know you to have hearing problems young Stark!”

You knew that your summer had been going a bit too smoothly. You just finished your nanotech suit, _somehow with all this outdated tech_, you had multiple wonderful shopping sprees with your mom _(and as expected, your dad threw fits every time)_, and your summer project was going swimmingly…

That was until Thor had barged in with his hammer in one hand and a duffle bag in the other.

You pinched the bridge of your nose as Thor stared down at your slouched form with an intensity that made you uncomfortable, despite knowing that all that was probably on his mind was, well. You set down the hologram pad and turned around to fully face him.

You inhaled and tried to gather your thoughts.

“You’re telling me… You want to go to China… _Because_…?”

His whole body seems to shake with his laugh. Your ears ring, having sat in a quiet room for nearly the whole day now. He stops laughing, but his infectious smile is still ever so present as he speaks up.

“I read on the interwebs of cuisine out of this world, and it said that this _China _has exactly that!”

You squinted and opened and closed your mouth, perplexed. You had so many questions- more so than before.

Where the hell had he heard that? That was so vague- _cuisines_? Since when was he into cuisine? And why China specifically?

Your lips were pressed in a thin line. You weren’t too sure if you cared enough to know all of the specifics. And quite frankly, you’re scared that it’ll only give you more questions than answers- after all, anything goes when it comes to Thor.

“… Okay, _and_?” You tilted your head to add onto that sarcastic _‘and’_. "Why’re you telling me this- I’m not your dad.“

"Of course you’re not my father! I am Thor, son of Odin, not of (Name)! I just want you to take me there!”

You rolled your eyes all the way into the back of your skull. Of course, he’d respond like that- he wasn’t as accustomed to Earth humor as the Thor you knew. And with that ass-backward logic- that _you _had to be the one to take him there- didn’t help with your frustration.

You picked at your chair’s armrest, pulling at the already worn down faux leather skin bit by bit. You probably need to buy another chair, huh?

You exhaled softly, eyeing the Norse god who was grinning at you expectedly.

“… Why…? Can’t you just- fly there? Using Mjolnir?”

Your eyes didn’t miss the glint of said hammer. It probably won’t be a comfortable ride, but it doesn’t seem like the blonde would mind flying through the wind for a few hours at most. He patted your shoulders.

“Yes, but as you may know: I cannot speak Chinese.”

He said that with an all too matter of factly tone that irked you, but also brought an ugly chortle out of your throat. You playfully slapped his hand away, eyes wide but crinkled with your wide grin.

“Dude- and who says I can?! I’m not all-knowing!” You waved your hands around with wide eyes painted with light mockery.

“Are you not?”

He tilts his head like a golden retriever. You snorted and turned around to try and focus back on what you were doing beforehand.

“No. Go by yourself, thunder thighs.”

“But I even packed my stuff!”

He lifts his duffle bag- as if that was sufficient enough to call 'packing’. Hell, you wouldn’t even be surprised if it was filled with random junk not meant for traveling. You rolled your eyes at how childish he was, standing there as if he was asking you to chaperone his field trip.

“Okay, and?”

That might be your new catchphrase just to combat all the silliness that was Thor.

He pouts his lips and tries to give you the puppy dog eyes. He’s acting cute now, but you know if you take him to China he’ll act a fool of himself. And besides, there’s a high chance he won’t find what he’s looking for there.

You sighed quietly, knowing that Thor won’t push you too far to do something you don’t want to, but he’ll definitely be sulking for a while afterward.

You mulled over it for a second, before it hit you.

China.

He wants to go to China. And where is China?

Right next to Nepal.

And where do you need to- oh, it doesn’t need to spell it out for you does it?

You tried fighting back the grin, silently thanking the stars for having aligned _right _for you just this once, and pretended to debate on whether or not you should actually take him or not.

He rocked on the balls of his feet and dragged a whiny_ 'please?’,_ which was the 'tipping point’ for you. It wasn’t, really- your mind was already made up by the sudden revelation, but still. A flair for dramatics wouldn’t hurt.

“Ugh, you know what- fine, I’ll take you to China.” He cheered out loud, but you raised a finger before he could jump to conclusions, “But! Only for a weekend!” His expression dropped for a moment, but he was still grinning ear to ear, “I still have other stuff to do… Wha-!”

You felt your lungs get caught as he drops Mjolnir and his duffle bag on the ground, and your bottom was suddenly no longer touching the chair you were sat on. Instead, it was in the air now as Thor grabbed you from under your arms and bear-hugged you while swinging you around like a ragdoll.

“Hnng-!”

You wheezed into his neck, but he doesn’t hear it over his boisterous laugh.

“You are my favorite Stark for a reason!”

Ignoring the heat rising to your cheeks at his bold statement, you smacked his back to let you down. You were struggling to breathe as he practically bomb rushed your lungs. He lets you down, but he’s still hugging you tightly and swaying side to side. You coughed and patted his back, praying that he’ll let go anytime soon for you to breathe properly.

“Relax, there’s only- ugh- two of us so there’s not- not much competition anyways. But- ack- thanks- now let go…!”

He finally relaxes his grip on you and lets you go, much to your ribs’ relief. You groaned, sure that bruises were definitely going to form around your chest from him. He chuckles and mentions something about 'mortals’, but you didn’t care much to listen.

He picks up his stuff and turns around to your hunched form with a bright smile- brighter than the one he had earlier.

“So, should we go now?”

“You know, I’m not too surprised you got scammed.”

You rummaged through your duffle bag, searching for some pajamas to 'sleep the night away’, so to speak. You ignored Thor as he spread eagle on his bed with nothing but a waist towel to cover him, but it wasn’t really doing much of its job as you can definitely tell his, ah, _hammer _was out in your peripherals. You made a mental reminder to get some eye-bleach later as your ears turn red. 

Your embarrassment goes unnoticed as Thor cried out dramatically.

“They said the food was magnificent!”

“Yeah, well, people lie sometimes. Or maybe their definition of good is different from yours. But hey, cheer up- we got to eat from other places, and they were delicious.”

You weren’t lying. The first day was spent looking for the particular restaurant Thor was talking about- and as it turns out, it was just a weird brothel. The 'cuisines’ Thor was talking about was a crude translation of 'Chinese prostitutes’ so that was… An experience. You two made sure to get that taken care of before you moved on.

While the one place you- more like Thor- was looking forward to was not what it was chalked up to be, there were a bunch of other places that definitely made up for that in terms of actual food. Well, judging by Thor’s pout, maybe it was just satisfying for _you_, anyways.

“But it does not quench my disappointment.”

You pulled your clothes out and tossed the bag to the side. You made a B line toward the bathroom as Thor tried settling into his bed. You almost stepped onto the towel he, at some point, had now thrown onto the ground haphazardly.

“Yeah, yeah, tell me that tomorrow when we have to fly back to New York. Go to sleep, Aussie John Smith.”

“I am still upset…”

Even with the door closed, you could still hear the disappointment heavy in his voice.

“Sleep. Now.”

“God, I hope he’s asleep.”

Your eyes dart over to his slumbering figure, comfortably sprawled out onto the rather small bed- for a man of his stature anyways. You tried your best to put a blanket over him, lest he gets cold or something (really, it was more for modesty as both his moons were out in full display, along with everything else), but every time you looked away for even a second, half of it was on the ground. At that point, you just gave up. 

His loss.

You’ll just need to remember to tip the workers here if they were to be greeted with his hammer at any point.

“He is, don’t worry.”

A disembodied but smooth Australian accent whispers back to you. Familiarity buzzes in the back of your head, but you dismissed it.

You hum in response and zipped up your jacket all the way. It may be summer, but where you were heading might be cold. And besides, it was the tightest fit you could pack in your bag. You adjusted your shoes and take one glance in the mirror in the adjacent bathroom. Your eyes linger around your neck, and you click your tongue.

You readjusted the leather collar so it wouldn’t leave a mark on you later. It wasn’t too thick, but it was definitely big enough to be a collar versus an itty bitty choker. You were torn between this and other styles of accessories- hell, you even considered making the same component your dad had- one over where your sternum would be. But your first model would always be your collar, so that was a start.

You figured that you _being _here, years before yours, had already altered it in _some way_. You figured that making this- your new suit- yes, it would change how things would turn up from then on. But _technically_, as long as you kept it in the back burner, you wouldn’t really change the future, per se… 

Yeah. This suit was just a backup. In case… In case something happened to your more mechanical suit. Or if it was unavailable.

Hopefully, you shouldn’t have to resort to doing something like that.

You gaze lingers a bit on the collar, and you tilted your head around. It didn’t look bad per se, but you knew you couldn’t just walk around wearing this. You _could _wear it under a collared or turtleneck shirt, but that wouldn’t last long. It wasn’t a viable long term solution- unless you just… Blend it into your lifestyle?

You shake your head, already having resigned to a previously made lapse in judgment.

You weren’t too sure if you wanted it to be a collar, so you already had plans to make other versions of this, just in case. But for now, it was what you knew, so of course, it had to be the first model- for the nanotech, anyways. Technically speaking, this would either be Mark-22 or Mark-94…

It doesn’t matter.

You walk out of the building, thankful that there weren’t really many people around for a busy city as this. You shuffled around behind the hotel and into an empty alleyway. You tried your best to ignore the smell of rotting food- it wasn’t as bad as some of the places around New York, but it wasn’t pleasant regardless. There were also other scents mixed into the equation, but you weren’t keen on lingering around to find out what it was.

You doublechecked around the corner just to make sure that no one was around before turning around.

“DAHLIA, how’s it going?”

You murmured quietly.

DAHLIA was the name of your old A.I. The voice wasn’t exactly the same as their original predecessor, but it was close enough. You would name it differently, but you were already used to DAHLIA, so it seemed redundant to make a new one right now.

There wasn’t really anything too deep about the name- like how J.A.R.V.I.S. was named after Tony’s butler, and FRIDAY was just a silly little joke. For you, you just named it after a flower that really… Resonated with you when you first named her, especially after the whole fight at the airport and finding your dad… Anyways. Nowadays, it was just a pretty name to you.

“All systems up and ready, doll.”

The same voice from earlier replies back. Your hand traveled to your neck and activated your suit. You felt the metal form over your shoulder, down your spide, and up your scalp. You watched your own reflection in the puddle underneath you quickly replace itself with that oh-so-familiar yet smoother helmet. 

Your vision goes dark and all of the city ambiances is muffled, then it all goes clear. Colors and lights flash open, and there’s a bunch of U.I. huds popping up everywhere. While you can hear perfectly, everything’s crisper now, but not overwhelming. You gazed over all of the information in front of you… All systems working perfectly- it strikes you now when you realize this was your first time actually taking this model out of the tower.

“Good… Well, time to take this baby out on a joyride, yeah?”

“Who’s this joyful for- me or you? Judging by your spiked heart rate, it’s not yours, and I can vouch that it’s not for me either.”

You ran your tongue over your front teeth and resisted the urge to scratch your arm. And to beat DAHLIA’s thick head in for being a brat. 

_(“You programmed me this way, doll.” A phrase she said a lot, annoyingly enough. She wasn’t wrong.)_

“You can just say I’m nervous, _sweetums_.” You made sure to lay it on heavy with the fake sweetness in your words.

Maybe it was just a gene that carried through from your dad to you, but it always seemed like your A.I.’s, no matter what, had more personality than the average person would like. But then again, it adds more flavor, no?

“Don’t make me demote you to BUTTERCUP.”

Buttercup flowers represented childishness, like what was spewing out of DAHLIA’s computerized mouth.

“As if you’d have the gall to do that, doll.”

You ignored the layers of mockery and rolled your eyes dramatically. She was right, but it’d take hell to freeze over for you to ever admit that to her.

“Just pul'up the route to Nepal.”

There were a few pop-ups from scanning the room, but the main one you were looking at was a map from Chengdu, China, to Nepal. It was a little far for your taste, so you were glad it was nighttime.

You just hope that you’ll be able to stay awake in the morning for the flight home… Who knows, maybe this trip will help with jetlag when you get home.

“Alright, let’s take a stroll through Nepal… DAHLIA, you know what to do." 

Your repulsers flare up and you jet straight into the sky. Stabilizers on your back keep your flight up steady and smooth, a far cry from your previous model’s jerky movements. 

"Camouflage Mode: On. Playing: Pumped Up Kicks.”

“… Not the song I was expecting, but sure.”

“Skip.”

“Playing: Gangnam Style.”

“Off- off, no- yeah, no- no, silence. Silence, yeah? I’m tired of your bullshit, missy.”

“Sure thing, doll.”

You wanted to throat punch the tinge of humor in her voice. It had already been around an hour into your flight to Nepal, and you were ready to rip your hairs out. You weren’t rushing at first, not really, so you took your time on the way there. And boy, did you just want this to be over with. DAHLIA was nonstop playing the trashiest songs and acted like she didn’t know what she was doing-

“Doll, if I may be allowed to interject in your brooding,-”

_“I’m not brooding-”_

“- I am curious to know how you plan to seek out the answers to your dilemma… Assuming you even _have _the questions to ask, if I may be bold in saying such. Which I am.”

You suddenly stopped, hovering above the clouds as you blank out for a second.

“Well, shit- what the hell _am _I gonna ask?”

You almost pondered over it, but knowing that you already had all the time in the world to come up with questions and still had none prepared just meant that you weren’t gonna get much in the span of a few hours.

You resumed your flight with a resigned sigh.

“You know what- I’m just- gonna wing it. Yeah, winging it.”

“That’s…”

“A dumb idea? Yeah, maybe, definitely actually, but uh, I’m too nervous right now to think. Just gotta- gotta keep flying baby, that’s all we can do right now.”

“And besides,” a flash of orange easily catches your attention- too easily, considering it was all pitch black over the mountains of Nepal. There’s a figure down in the mountains, and their head was pointed directly in your direction. "It’s not like we have all the time in the world to think of questions right now, do we?“

The figure doesn’t move. If anything, it just stands there and watches you, as if they were dissecting every movement you made as you quickly descended down to the ground. You surely didn’t miss the U.I. hud blink in the corner of your eyes. 

_'Repulsor Canons: On Standby’_

You made no moves to tell DAHLIA to stand down with the repulsors just in case they weren’t friendly. The fact that the person even knew you were there, what with your camo mode on, told you more than enough to warrant caution. Your heart beating thrums through your ears and you barely heard DAHLIA murmur with concern.

"No, not at all. Be careful, doll. The area displays signs of heavy spacial manipulation…”

You didn’t ask any questions from that, voice already caught in your throat.

“You come here often?”

It was a lot less cold than you were expecting, but you still kept your helmet on just in case. A blow to the noggin wouldn’t be pleasant, but it’d definitely hurt less with it on. 

Even with the helmet helping you, all you could see was a figure draped in robes, and they had a pretty long hood covering their face. They were probably like Strange, as you recognized that orange spark from anywhere… And besides, it was the only logical _(despite there being actual fucking magic)_ explanation considering the only thing surrounding the two of you was mountains and dead grass.

“You are not native to this timeline, Stark.”

It shouldn’t have been a surprise that she knew who you were- everyone not living under a rock did- but hearing that still made your skin crawl. She knew who you _really _were- or at least, who you aren’t.

“Then you’ll know why I’m here.”

“Funny of you to say that, when I’m confident not even _you _know why you’re here…”

Your stomach lurched from being called out like that. You didn’t know what to say to that- it wasn’t like she was wrong. Not at all, actually.

She lifts her hoodie and sends you a smile, but you weren’t too sure if you could trust her just yet. But it wasn’t like you had much of a choice, considering she might be the one to actually provide you _some _answers. She waves her hand and orange sparks fly around you as your environment shifts. You step back and watched as building structures appear out of nowhere. It was… Beautiful, despite your hatred for anything that strays from science and into magic. 

“Told you…” DAHLIA whispers. You swallowed down the bile from the visual trip.

“Holy shit…”

The robed lady still looks at you, amusement dancing in her eyes as she nods her head towards the entrance.

“… If you’d like, we can discuss this inside, where it’s warm. And we have tea, as well.”

“I don’t know what to do if I’m being honest with you.”

If you were the Ancient One- or how she introduced herself-, you would’ve kicked yourself out of the temple for coming here half-cocked. You didn’t even know where to start with this whole conversation now that you two were settled now.

You avoided her gaze and admired the architectural design inside the temple as you both sat across from each other. Your helmet now retracted as you glanced at your reflection into the cup of tea. Your hair was a mess, but it was tasteful, at least.

“I can see that. To come here with no goal in mind isn’t a smart plan.”

“But it’s better than roaming around willy nilly. It’s already bad enough I came so late. Besides… Coming here will at least be an attempt at _some _closure.”

You fiddled with the cup, tracing your finger back and forth over the rim absentmindedly. 

“Closure to what, if I may ask?”

Your eyebrow twitched at the softness of her tone. Your grip on the cup tightened as a shadow loomed over your eyes. She looks at you expectantly and sips. Moments pass before a sigh escapes you and you lean back into the chair, running your hands through your hair.

“… Not too sure myself.”

“I’m gonna take a wild guess and assume that, _by the law of an unknown force_,” Sarcasm dripped with every word, but she didn’t falter in her gaze, “You can’t tell me… What’ll happen in the future, huh?”

She shakes her head.

“There are endless possibilities the future holds that restrains me from giving a proper answer that’ll satisfy you.”

You laughed humorlessly. Great. Of course. What else were you expecting?

A weight settles in your chest, the realization that you might not even get any satisfying answer from this trip- this trip that you had been nervously looking forward to- creeps up your spine. You blink owlishly, and she mirrors your own expression.

“… Can you at least tell me what happens after- after _my _timeline? Or before I… Before I left?”

“I’m afraid not, Stark.”

You licked your lips. Damn.

“I… See.”

“I… This is also probably… Something you can’t tell me, but… Did I- did I mess up this timeline? By coming back here, to- to 2013, by some miracle?”

She doesn’t answer immediately. There was no contemplative expression on her face, rather as she was looking at you it was more like she was trying to figure out what you were thinking rather than vice versa. 

“… You already know the answer to that. Even the slightest discrepancy can derail this timeline’s future from, let’s say, your timeline’s initial course.”

“I guess… Yeah, you’re right…”

You thought back to the first noticeable inconsistency- the ambush at the HYDRA base. You knew you felt off about it, and your gut took a plunge when you remembered days later- you weren’t supposed to be the one to get the file.

It was supposed to be Steve.

There were many more afterward. The apology following that. Your lab being built- you wanted to slap yourself- what the _hell _were you thinking?! It wasn’t supposed to be built until a year later- but here you are, a fully fleshed out lab- that looks nothing like your lab in 2014!

There were many more afterward, but they were so minor you weren’t sure if they were meant to happen or not.

Not to mention your new suit- you were trying to bullshit yourself with excuses, that it wouldn’t matter if you built it or not, so long as you don’t use it.

“… Do you think I should… I don’t know… Try and keep the timeline according to _mine_? Like, let the preventable fights and deaths happen? Or should I just… Try and steer it into a future where we… We have a chance?”

That was the beauty of time travel that many works of fiction played with. With the knowledge of what happens in the future, it was easy to alter it as you see fit. And with that type of knowledge, it held a lot of responsibility to hold back the want to just… Do something different.

Of course, it wouldn’t alter _your _timeline, a timeline that already went through its course- the same course you were going through months ago. Like Bruce- or Professor Hulk?- tried to explain before the time-hopping you all did: if you altered the past, you won’t change the current timeline, rather you’d just be creating an alternate timeline, is all.

_(It was a shame that meant that you couldn’t really go with Rhodey’s initial plan to just… locate baby Thanos and… Y'know.)_

She shakes her head, almost in silent resignation.

“… I, ultimately, cannot stop you. It is your decision to make, and yours alone.”

“I’m just… Scared. What if…” You felt the ground beneath you shift, despite sitting still. Nausea crept into your skin, and you felt like you were being burnt suddenly. You held back from spitting out the bile taste settling in your mouth and opted to grind your teeth together till it went away.

You gripped your head tenderly and sighed, "What if I fucked up that one chance Strange was talking about…?“

"Strange?”

“What?”

She sets her cup, now empty as opposed to your still full cup, and straightens her back. Her eyes held a firmness that made you pull your head away from your hands to look straight at her.

“You mentioned Strange.”

“… You know him?”

It was a stupid question to ask, but she didn’t seem to mind. You fingers itched to scratch your arm, but you ignored it as she spoke up again.

“Yes. He is destined to become the strongest amongst us, as you should know by now. What did you say about him?”

Blinking, you tried to recall what he had said back when you were on Titan with him. It’s been years since then, but you could still remember with slight clarity what he had said to your father that day.

“Oh, I think- he said that- before he- he died- he said something about there being a- a one in like, 14 million possibilities that we win against- well, our bad guy. He said something like,_ 'it was the only way’. _Right before, well… He- uh, died.”

It felt weird talking about a dead man- technically, a man who was still alive in this timeline. She pressed her lips in a thin line. She stares at you hard enough to make you want to crawl right out of it, but you knew she’d probably yank you right back.

You could tell she’s trying to pick her words carefully, and that was instant red flags to you. What did she know that you didn’t? What did she realize that you didn’t?

What did she know that’d make her think over her words?

“… Stark…” Your skin prickled, her voice was soft just like earlier. Did she think you were sensitive? “Have you ever considered the possibility that maybe it was destined… For you to be here?”

“What- what do you mean…?”

You gripped hard on the chair’s armrest. DAHLIA whispers something into your ears about rising heart rate, but your mind couldn’t really process it over the Ancient One’s words.

“I _mean_… Maybe it was fated for you to be here, years before yours, for them to see that one chance of success.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You and Thor go to China on a field trip, and you get unsatisfying and really fucking freightening answers.


	10. Revelation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Setting: 2023

It’s safe to say that it’s been a complete shit storm on Earth, Carol muses behind her cup of coffee.

Of course, it’s not just Earth that’s undergoing complete mass hysteria from the reversed blip. Other planets and societies beyond the Terran solar system were facing the after-effects of what had happened, too- and it doesn’t help that Earth was so cut off from the intergalactic systems, so nearly everyone else didn’t know of what had happened.

So least to say, she was quite busy trying to maneuver her way through the galaxies (with help, of course) to try and spread the word of what had happened.

Regardless though, she’d thought that after weeks and weeks, perhaps maybe the news would’ve slowed down a little bit. And it seemed to have, just a little bit, but for every time news slows, another wave comes in.

The first wave was about, obviously, the reversed blip. Of course, that one didn’t have enough time to slow down as the next wave came around. The death of Tony Stark was announced a week after the fight- just so his family and friends had enough time to mourn in privacy. Then the next one about the sacrifice Natasha Romanoff made- though it was a smaller wave, it was one that still had a huge impact. And for a while, it seemed like that was that- weeks pass, and just barely had the craze around the reverse blip (Lord, there’s got to be another name for this, Carol thinks) lessened.

And then (Name) Stark is pronounced dead.

To say the headlines erupted once again in a mad-dog-like frenzy would be an understatement. Hell- Carol would even dare say that it was almost as talked about as his father’s death. Of course, it was in part due to, well, (Name) fucking Stark being pronounced dead. A man of his status was bound to capture the headlines with his passing for weeks, just like his old man.

But it was also in part credited to something else: the timing and nature of his death, or lack thereof.

Carol remembers watching the SI press conference a couple of hours ago, just as it finished broadcasting. She was a few light-years away from Earth as she heads back for check-in.

_(New message, 3 hours ago: Maria R._

_‘Hey, I think you might wanna watch this before you come back to Earth. Just broadcasted. It’s about (Name) Stark.’_

_Carol pauses, midway through drying her hair as she’s about to put her uniform on. She’d be lying if curiosity wasn’t eating at her, so she still clicks on the link Maria had sent her.)_

(Name) was… A prominent figure within Earth’s society. Being the CEO of Stark Industries _(a massive company, so she’s been told)_, a superhero/ Avenger, and the world’s 'longest-running most eligible bachelor’ _(Carol scoffs- why is that one of the main things the public likes to point out so much?) _definitely lands you underneath the people’s microscope more often than not.

They’d pick at every nitty-gritty detail one by one and shred into it without mercy.

And even in his death, they did the same thing. Unsatisfied, they practically crucified Stark Industries and the Avengers after SI’s press conference. 

She glances around her, the local tavern loud with nothing but one word on their lips: Stark.

'Honestly, I wouldn’t be surprised if he died from like, an inside job or something.’

'Died too young, man. The kid had so much potential to be great… May God rest his soul.’

Carol shakes her head. They weren’t wrong- from what she’s seen working with (Name), he was a hard worker, that’s for sure. Sighing, she left a tip at her table and quietly left.

Hopefully, for Earth, they’ll come to find some peace soon.

“You okay, punk?”

'No,’ Steve fiddles with nail absentmindedly, 'I’m not.’

That’s his honest answer to the question. He wants to scream and shout to the world that no, he is not okay whatsoever, but he knows that’s one of the many luxuries he’ll never get to have anymore- even to the people closest to him. Too much of a burden no one would want to carry.

So, instead, he smiles at Bucky with more teeth than necessary, face straining ever so slightly. 

"Sure thing, Buck’. Are you?”

The brunette offers him a small, sympathetic smile back. It’s not the same as Steve had remembered- it used to be confident and relaxed, but nowadays it’s always tense and careful. But then again, it wasn’t like Steve was the same man either, so he’d be hypocritical to expect the same man from his memories from his old pal.

“I’m managing.”

It was always something along the lines of that. Never an okay, never a not okay. Just… managing. Short and simple.

It’s scary how much Bucky’s reserved presence reminds him of how Steve himself used to be, back when he was wide-eyed and naive to what the world has become without him. He didn’t really feel like he was actually there and knowing how separated he and the rest of the world were made him want to close in on himself.

On one hand, he’d never wish that feeling of emptiness on anyone. But on the other hand, he’s almost relieved he’s not the only one who’s felt so completely alone in this world anymore.

Almost.

Steve doesn’t say anything as Bucky comes over to where he was in the living room and sits adjacent to him on the couch. For a brief moment, they say nothing as the TV plays the news station. Steve pretends to watch the news, but he can’t find the energy to care about what’s going on in the news. It’s all the same thing nowadays: Blip, Blip, Avengers, Blip, Starks…

Settling down in his seat, he lets his mind drifts off other places instead.

It drifts to a cramped, moldy apartment that was too small and cold for the average person, but just enough for him. 

It drifts to an ugly tower, placed right at the epicenter of one of the most beautiful yet terrifying cities he’s ever been in. Charming, and in every way a wonderful representation of the future.

It drifts to the loud yet comforting hum of the inside of the quinjet, sailing ever so smoothly into the night sky after a successful mission. Bruised, but satisfied.

It drifts to a sly redhead with one too many daggers slipped around her person, sitting next to a tired brunette wrapped up in blankets. Deadly, yet delicate. Open, yet intimate.

It drifts to a mystical long-haired blonde and an erratic billionaire, sitting together and joking about as if they hadn’t just fought neo-nazis no less than an hour ago. He remembers a rush of fondness glossing over him as he passively observes them.

It drifts to a pair of warm, mirth filled eyes as they listen attentively to Steve ramble on and on about the war as if he had hung the moon. He relishes in the spotlight of their monopolized attention.

It drifts to the nights where life’s not as unbearable as it usually is, as he sits across from a usually aggressive young adult quietly chatting about books they’ve read together: their own secret club. Warm, he reconsiders, comfortable. Content.

It drifts to quiet nights where he tries to focus on the ceiling rather than the erratic beats of his heart, images of his own teammate grinning tiredly at him, lips bruised, split, and inviting. Guilt courses through his veins, but so does heat.

Steve’s mind drifts through lots of things before Bucky murmurs into the air nonchalantly.

“It’s about Stark, isn’t? The son?”

Steve holds back a flinch, praying that Bucky doesn’t notice the red crawling up his neck. He wouldn’t have been embarrassed if Bucky had meant Tony- of course, Steve misses him dearly- but for Bucky to go straight to you instead is mildly humiliating, to say the least. He can feel Bucky’s eyes burning holes into his skull. It’d be no use trying to deny it, so Steve conceded with a reluctant nod.

“That obvious?”

“It’s written all over your face.”

Steve doesn’t offer to say more, so Bucky continues, quieter this time.

“He seemed like a great kid.”

Steve huffs with a small amused smile. He thinks back to when you two spent Valentine’s Day together- not as a couple, obviously, but you claimed that the two loners on the Avengers team should have each other’s backs. He chuckles absentmindedly. You two did nothing but watch movies and critique them all night.

Granted, it was more one-sided as he spent the whole night listening to you go on and on about how objectively, the Hunger Games books were far better than the movies, but he enjoyed it nonetheless. It was nice to hear you talk, especially when it’s about something so trivial but important to you.

“One of the best,” Steve half-heartedly offers. 

“Tell me 'bout him.” Bucky isn’t looking at the TV anymore as his eyes are trained on Steve’s.

Steve shrugs with a sigh.

“What more can I say that hasn’t been said already?”

Ever since the SI press conference, countless of people came out to say great things about you, as they did with Tony. Countless of people praised you, especially with your efforts to help society get back on their feet ever since the blip. Even random people gave their one anecdote with you, whether it be a barista that had served you or folks at Morgan’s daycare center whenever you picked her up.

Nothing but words of praises and kindness for you.

Bucky hums, understanding what he means. It wasn’t like he hadn’t looked at the news as of recently, either. For every 10 headlines that are published, chances are 9 of them have at least one mention of a Stark, whether it be the senior or junior.

They sat in silence once more, something Steve noted as a reoccurring theme between them. It wasn’t uncomfortable, but it did make Steve’s skin crawl, hoping for the other to say something just once.

“… You were sweet on him, aren’t you?”

Though, maybe this was the one time he wished Bucky would’ve just stayed silent.

It would be horrifying to hear someone accuse him of being in love with his own (ex-) teammate if he hadn’t already come to terms with it. Still, it’s unnerving to hear someone pinpoint his feelings within a matter of a week or two when it had taken him up until it was too late to figure it out.

“Did it matter?” Steve runs a hand through his hair, almost as if it were a defense mechanism, but he insists it’s not, "It’s not like he was interested in me, anyways… Not especially after…“

Steve laughs quietly, almost bitterly so. If he thought he had any chance with you before, he sure as hell threw that chance straight in the garbage the moment he locked eyes with you at the airport. And it sure as hell didn’t help when he had practically rag-tag teamed up against your own dad.

"Besides… He’s a man of the future, Buck. He’s so… so bright compared to everyone else. I can’t- I don’t have much to offer. I’m just- all I’m good for is fighting.”

He sighs, and he’ll deny it if anyone comments on how resigned it sounded.

“Not to mention, there’re other people that he’d be happier with. People that wouldn’t- wouldn’t hurt him,” _'Like you did,’_ his subconscious bitterly reminds him. And he wasn’t wrong- there were other people you could be wonderful with.

You and Queens already had some chemistry, from what Steve’s heard in the air. There was never anything substantial, but he’d pass by a few newspapers mentioning you and Spider-Man spotted together more often than not. You two would’ve been cute, Steve reluctantly admits. He wouldn’t even be surprised if you two were dating.

Then there were a few others, too. Surprisingly enough, he saw you and King T'Challa, of all people, together too often in the New York Times, and even Wakanda’s own news websites. His Highness’ explained it was only ever about the Accords, but Steve wasn’t so blind as to not notice how much more genuine T'Challa’s smile seemed when you were brought into the conversation.

There was also Thor, too. You stopped talking to the rest of the Avengers save a select few after the initial blip in 2018, so there wasn’t any new thing between you and Thor, but Steve reminisces when he’d catch you joking around with Thor and teasing the poor God. If not lovers, you two were most definitely good friends. Steve hates the fact that he’s exceptionally happy at the prospect of you and Thor being just friends.

Not to mention the other seemingly boundless amount of people who you’d make a great couple with. Maybe it was just Steve being excessively attentive when it came to you, or maybe it was because everyone’s eyes just seemingly happen to gravitate to you, no matter if there’s hundreds of people in the room at the same time.

Bucky sighs and mutes the TV. Steve gives him a questioning look, but Bucky only raises an eyebrow back as he looks at him straight on.

“Those just sound like excuses. Never took you for a coward.”

Steve bristles.

He’ll admit that he’s a lot of things. Frustrating, thick-headed, and quick to anger. And knowing other people, they have a whole list to add on to those too, whether it be positive or negative. But one thing he’s never been was a coward.

“I’m not- look, I just know a lost fight when I see one, okay? He just- wasn’t interested in me, and that’s fine. Hell- he’s probably not even into men.”

Steve’s mind lingers back to a picture lying in your old room, back when he used to come visit you just to say goodnight, or to ask you to join him in his morning jog. He never brought up the picture, rationalizing that it was too invasive of a question. You were with a girl- both of you seemed quite young- but it was obvious that you two were more than friends judging by the way you held her and the very obvious hickey on your neck.

His ears burn, and he’s not sure if it’s with embarrassment or envy.

“But you don’t know that, though, do you? You ever asked him any of that? If he was into fellas? If he was into you?’”

Steve tears his eyes away from Bucky’s stare, feeling his eyes burn into his skull.

Sure, he never asked you outright anything Bucky had mentioned, that much was obvious. And sure, even entertaining the (pleasant) idea that you were into men, it didn’t take a genius to guess that you absolutely loathed Captain America. It was obvious, too. Especially ever since the 'scandal’ of you deleting any tweets or photos you had uploaded that Steve was in. 

_(Of course, you deleted any photos the Rogue Avengers were in, but that didn’t make the stinging hurt any less when Steve had found out.)_

Bucky sighs and turns the sound back on. There was a tension in the air between them, but Bucky beat Steve from saying something as he speaks up.

“And the whole thing 'bout you knowing a lost fight when you see one?”

Steve raised an eyebrow. Bucky half-smirks.

“Not the Steve Rogers I know.”

He gently punches Steve’s shoulder and ruffles his hair, much to Steve’s amused annoyance.

“The Steve Rogers I know would’ve charged headfirst into a battle, even if it was just him against the world. Oh wait- you already tried doing that.”

Steve rolls his eyes and playfully shoves Bucky. The amount of razzing he had gotten from Bucky- and others, too, like Sam and Bruce _(his heart curls, knowing that Natasha would’ve been among them as well, telling Steve off for trying to pull a 'bull-headed’ move)-_ was more than enough for Steve to feel bad anymore at this point.

“Shut it.” Steve jests.

They fall into a comfortable silence again, though this time Bucky turns back on the TV to a low volume. Steve glances at Bucky, who’s got his chin rested absentmindedly on his hand.

“You know… You’re taking this awfully well.”

Bucky pauses, peering at Steve with a raised eyebrow.

“Taking what?”

“Me bein’,” Steve pauses, trying to find the right words before giving up, “Er, into ladies and fellas.”

Bucky doesn’t say anything for a solid minute, and before Steve was about to start rambling, trying to just get Bucky to say anything, the brunette speaks up, but timidly so.

“It’s… not somethin’ I ever thought about, y'know? You bein’- bein’ into guys, I mean.”

He sighs and runs a hand through his shaggy hair. He keeps his eyes glued onto the TV with a soft gaze, so distant that Steve wants to know what he’s really thinking about.

“We just… Never talked about it. Never… Never gave it a thought. I’d be lying if I said I was 100%, er, up to speed with it.”

Bucky pauses mid-sentence. He waves his hands and flickers his attention to Steve for just a split second, almost as if he’s nervous about what he’s saying.

“Not the bein’ gay thing, or whatever. Just… How open people nowadays are with that stuff.”

Steve unclenches his jaw, not even realizing it had been clenched this whole time. It wasn’t something that Steve had thought would be new to Bucky, and he almost feels dumb for not realizing it sooner. Hell, even when Steve himself had been defrosted, it shocked him that something as gay relationships were accepted now. Not that he was against it- but to see that the world had progressed like that without him made him hurt less whenever he thought too hard about the old times.

“Oh, Buck…”

Steve places an encouraging hand on Bucky’s shoulders, and he almost seems to sag into it.

“Back then, you’d practically be crucified if you were caught.”

Bucky’s eyes are unfocused, lips pressed in a firm line. Steve doesn’t say anything since he doesn’t even know what to say to that.

Bucky, seemingly haven snapped out of it, smiles; though, it looks more like a grimace in Steve’s opinion.

“Just- give me some time, 'kay? I’ll come round sooner or later. Just… It’s all still a lot, even after years of bein’ here…”

'To the 21st century,’ the words lingered on his tongue. Steve sure knows how that feels, to be overwhelmed by the new world. It’s almost suffocating, knowing how much you’ve missed out on, and how different everything is now. It’s like drowning, really.

Surrounded by so much, too much, and at one point it even feels like Steve’s being dragged down further and further away from the surface no matter how much he tries swimming up. There’s no one there to save him, either. No one to dive their hand down into the waters, no one to hold onto as they pull him back up to the surface.

It’s just Steve, alone, in a bottomless ocean, drowning. And it’s constantly filling up and up and up and God all Steve just wants to do is get away from there and be able to breathe.

Steve pats his shoulders, pulling him in for a side-hug as Bucky returns the gesture. He playfully ruffles the blonde’s hair, much to Steve’s annoyance, and gives him a lopsided smile that makes the tension in Steve’s shoulder loosen.

“B'sides, you’re still my Stevie. Not like you’ve sprouted horns and started killin’ people.”

Steve rolls his eyes but doesn’t comment on that. Once again, they fall into a comfortable silence, though Steve’s shoulders feel unexplainably lighter than it has in days.

The sun’s almost gone by the time Steve gets home from the group therapy session he was at. It was the same old, same old. Go in, talk about your feelings, and listen to other people afterward. Sure, it helped, and it felt great to empower people to get back up from a great fall, but it just…

It doesn’t really fulfill him nowadays.

Hell, he’s not sure what can fulfill him now.

Settling in, he notes that Bucky’s room is dark; chances are, he’s probably out right now. Before, Steve used to be worried about him, but now it’s not uncommon for Bucky to be gone every now and then. Steve doesn’t really ask where he’s going, so long as Bucky doesn’t tell him. One day, maybe he’ll ask.

Regardless though, Steve rummages around in the fridge to see what he has to work with in terms of dinner. But before he could even take out anything, his phone buzzes with a notification.

Taking out his phone, still halfway into the fridge, Steve glances at the display name.

It’s from Rhodes.

Raising an eyebrow, he taps on the notification. It’s rare that Rhodey texts, and it’s even rarer for him to text Steve of all people. Nowadays, other than any Avenging business, they don’t really talk. Granted, Steve also never finds the energy to talk to anyone these days, save a select few and those at the group therapy sessions, but that’s beside the point.

So if Rhodey is texting him, it’s gotta be important.

And judging by how fast Steve had bolted out the door and onto his motorcycle, it sure as hell was important. 

_From: Col. James Rhodes._

_To: Capt. Steve Rogers, Dr. Bruce Banner, +3 others._

_“Dr. Strange’s back. He has new information about (Name), and it’s major. He’s not staying for long. - James.”_

Pepper doesn’t want to be here.

There was no going around it- as composed as she was and had to be, she knew she could only take so much before she would snap. And sitting in the compound once again, she wouldn’t be surprised if what she was about to hear would be the final straw.

She had plans today, too. She was supposed to take Morgan to go see the neighborhood fireworks festival, and she remembers distinctly looking forward to taking Morgan on the ferry-go-round, too. And yet, here she is, at the compound which once used to be lively, but only whispers of her husband and son echo in the hallways.

She had already been sitting in here for an hour before Steve had finally made it. By then, Bruce and Strange had already explained why they were here.

Just like Tony and Natasha, it seemed like your fate had already been set in stone the moment Stephen had spared the time stone for Tony’s life.

But that wasn’t what they were called in here for; or at least, in a way that Pepper had initially thought. 

Bruce was talking, and as if he was concluding his monologue, he spares a sympathetic glance at everyone in the room, especially at Pepper. She just wishes he’d stop throwing glances at her as if she was a fine piece of China ready to tip over from the cupboard at any moment now _(She knows she almost is, but she’d rather be caught dead than to have an emotional breakdown at a time like this. What was it- Stark men are made of iron?)_

“And besides… We’ve retrieved video recording of what happened that day. From DAHLIA.”

The only thing in her vision is red. But she doesn’t raise her voice._ ('Am I going to have to watch it?’ She thinks)_ She doesn’t move from her spot as she stares at Bruce, eyes dilated_ ('Yes, of course, you want to know what happened,’ her subconscious betrays her). _Her ears are pounding and she doesn’t know whether she wants to laugh or cry.

“And why did it take you so long to get the recording?”

She watches like a hawk as Bruce and Stephen grimace. They glance at each other with uncertainty, but it’s Bruce who bites the bullet and speaks up.

“Because, ah… We didn’t think about it…?”

Suddenly, all she wants to do is scream. Lifting a shaking hand to her head as there’s now a pounding at her skull, she clenches her eyes shut.

Breathe in, breathe out.

Breathe in, breathe out.

She opens her eyes and boy, does she hate the way that everyone’s avoiding her gaze. Even the ever so elusive Sorceror Supreme (In her head, she knows he’s not at fault. In her heart, she wants to spit on his name.) pretends to be busy, but she knows.

She knows.

She sighs, ignoring the tremble of her lips, and dismissively waves her hand at Bruce.

“Just play it. Please.”

Bruce silently nods and pulls up a recording. It’s dated back to the day of the reversed blip, a quarter past afternoon. 

Pepper crosses her arm, praying that no one sees her hands quake as the recording starts. 

It’s dark and decrepit, with a good portion of the screen glitching out. There are charts and tables everywhere, and Pepper now recognizes them as his health stats. The walls all blur together as she tries to bite back the tears.

There’s rubble everywhere. In the distance are lights from fires, but you’re so far down there’s barely any light at all. Your face isn’t in view, and rather what she sees makes her heartache even worse than before.

A gleam of metal jutting out of your stomach is front and center of the camera. It’s huge- about the width of her thigh- and it’s stained red. Your breathing is labored and short, obvious signs of a panic attack as the sounds of you gasping echo in the room. No one says a thing as an Australian voice speaks up in a frantic.

“Doll! Doll, I need you to breathe! You’re going into shock!”

There’s no response from you as you continue to hyperventilate. Out of the corner of her eyes, she sees Steve’s jaw clench and Bruce covering his mouth. She doesn’t react to Rhodey’s hand squeezing her shoulder as they all watch on.

There’s a weird sound coming out of you. Pepper’s heart clenches, and at this point, she doesn’t even care that she’s crying now- because she knows what that sound is.

That’s the sound of you hiccuping.

You’re crying.

You- one of the strongest men she knows, an Avenger, a hero, her baby- are crying, alone, and she was none the wiser to your suffering.

You’re moving- oh God, your arm- and the video feed pick up scuttering and growling. Her stomach drops even further. Chitauri. 

Your other arm grasps all over your lower body, barely gliding past your wounds (oh God, please tell her that’s not a steel beam) and into your pockets. There’s an orange tint, barely there, but in your hands as DAHLIA speaks up again.

“Don’t move! You’ve been impaled by a steel beam and your prosthetic arm has been dislocated- any more movement will result in an increased blood loss! I am attempting to contact Mister-”

There’s the sound of glass shattering before the video camera shuts off. The charts suddenly spike unnaturally, going practically haywire as the only thing left coming from the screen is the sound of DAHLIA’s voice glitching. 

“-er-er-er!”

It was a horrific way to go if Stephen’s being honest.

Of course, as both a doctor and Sorcerer Supreme, he’s seen- and even experienced- his fair share of gruesome injuries and deaths. It was par the course, so it wasn’t enough to make him want to empty his guts.

But he’d be lying if he said that he didn’t at least feel his stomach curl in when he had to witness your 'death’ the first few times. 

Seeing you crushed under debris, your prosthetic arm hanging by a few strings, and literally impaled by a steel beam wasn’t a pleasant sight whatsoever. Add on watching your scared form hyperventilating and hearing your A.I. trying to calm you down with heartbreakingly real panic in her voice, and it was downright unbearable.

And that was the best of it: there were ones where the steel beam had sliced through your skull or where you had been straight up mauled by the Chitauri as you didn’t have your suit on hand, for whatever reason. There were other scenarios where the chitauri had mobbed-up your decapitated head, and Thanos had presented it to the older Stark, just as he was about to grab the stones. That one move proved fatal for everyone, as even Stark had lost his composure at the sight of his dead son.

As much as Stephen doesn’t want to say it, he knew that what had actually happened to you was the best possible route that had been chosen for you.

The video ends, and the Captain leans away from the wall he was positioned on. 

“What the hell happened? One moment- he was trapped under rubble, the next, nothing? Suddenly we lose all contact with him? What- did he just- pop out of existence?”

He’s frustrated, angry. Stephen would be lying if he didn’t feel an inkling of the same emotions as him. Stephen runs a shaky hand through his hair.

“You’re not entirely wrong, Captain. What happened to him was similar to that of St- Tony,” He corrects himself prematurely, “and Romanoff.”

“You telling me he was meant to- to die too? Like Tony and Natasha?”

Stephen shakes his head, ignoring the seething anger in the captain’s voice. In the corner of his eyes, he sees Rhodes wrap his arms around Pepper, who’s sat still in her chair, staring blankly at Stephen. It’s almost as if she’s seeing past him for a split second as if she’s looking at someone else behind him.

There’s only a wall next to him. He ignores her, skin prickling at her unwavering attention, yet eery silence.

“It’s a means to an end. I can’t pick their fates, Captain. That’s not how my powers work.”

_'Though, it would’ve been better for the sake of everyone had it did work that way.’ _Stephen bitterly remarks.

“Besides that, I never said he’s dead, Captain. Or, shouldn’t be, anyway.” Stephen carefully avoided answering if it was a necessity that you were to go.

Stephen internally sighs, knowing immediately that wasn’t the right thing to say judging by the 'oh God’ Pepper just muttered.

Rhodes speaks up with a clenched jaw. He had been silent this whole time, but Stephen wasn’t foolish enough to not recognize how even he had been bothered by the film. Whether it was because of the gore, emotional connection, or both, Stephen doesn’t care enough to ask.

“Then what exactly are you saying?”

Stephen, once again, ignores how confrontational his tone is. He doesn’t blame Rhodes for his frustrations; being a doctor, it’s inevitable that he’d come and get used to people like this.

_'They’re mourning,’_ he hears imaginary Christine chiding him.

Stephen sighs. He’s not even sure how to break it all to them, as even he’s not too sure of what has become of you after the film. But regardless, Stephen reels himself back in and composes himself.

He pulls back the need to add any fluff words and says what he’s been inching to say ever since he had attended Tony’s funeral.

“Stark’s traveled back in time; the only problem is, is that we don’t know when and where.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Carol reflects over what's happened, James calls Steve out on his feelings, and Pepper finds out what happened to you. Ish.


	11. Renaissance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Setting: 2013

Uncle Rhodey visited today.

You don't _actually_ call him that- you’re old enough now where, if you started, it definitely would be less endearing and a bit _weird_, but nowadays it was always either Rhodey or Jimmy. Besides, it’s even weirder considering you’re technically almost 30, so there’s that. Of course, back then though, there were moments when you slipped up, much to your embarrassment and his amusement. 

You’d either be sleep-deprived or distracted most of the time. Mumbling a tired_ ‘Hey Uncle Rhodey’ _and not noticing the grin on the faces of whoever was in the room with the two of you. It didn’t happen often- maybe once every other blue moon- but it happened nonetheless.

But despite being literal years since you’ve called him that, this was one of those moments where you just couldn’t help yourself.

“What’s up squirt? Looks like you’ve seen a ghost.”

_(Falling._

_Falling._

_Falling._

_Fast. Oh God, why was he falling so fast?_

_“Uh, little,” there’s a strained grunt, “Little help here? I’m- I’m flying dead stick…!”)_

“Uncle Rhodey…”

Right in front of you stood Rhodey, who grins at you with underlying concern in his eyes. He looks good, no matter how much shit you always gave him for wearing polo shirts. Definitely less aged, too… Not as tired. There’s a pep in his step you forgot he had as he moves in to give you a hug. 

_(“Rhodes!” Your ears strain as your dad yells into the commlink, though that was nearly drowned out by the drum of your heart thundering in your chest. High in the sky, you take to an instant nose dive and descend._

_With each pulse, Rhodey’s only falling and falling and falling, and he’s not slowing down any time soon. He doesn’t respond to your dad. Faint sounds of what may be him losing his breath make you scream out for him too._

_You’re opposite of Tony as you both try and catch up with the suit. In the corner of your eyes, you see Falcon diving down too. Mother fucker._

_You fall and fall, and so does Rhodey. _

_The distance between you and Rhodey gets closer and closer, but so does the distance between Rhodey and the ground. It’s a race, you bitterly thought in hindsight. You vs. Tony vs. Wilson._

_Only Rhodey wins first place.)_

You knew it’s been years since his fall. But even then, every time you looked at Rhodey, flashes of a falling metal suit lingers in the back of your head. The pounding in your head only gets worse when Rhodey’s standing in front of you without leg braces on.

“Aw, guessed someone missed his _uncle_, huh?”

You know he’s just teasing you, but God did you want to tell him how absolutely true he was. 

_(You ignore DAHLIA’s concerned whisper of 'elevated stress above normal parameters.’)_

Wordlessly, you hug him maybe a bit tighter than you normally would. You try to find the words to reply back, something snarky_ (“This 'squirt' can give you the smackdown of your life, Jimmy.”)_, maybe even something honest _(“Yeah, I did. I missed you. Fuck, I missed you so much.”)_. Just anything would do, but the flashes of a human-sized crater with a red suit hovering over makes you want to hurl, so you just kept your mouth shut and buried your head in his shoulder. You feel him pat your head gently.

_(The thud echoes in your ears. _

_You’re, what? Maybe 70 feet above him?_

_But yet you heard that thud as if you were dead center of the crater._

_Time slows down to forever as you finally touch down and sprint over to your dad, ignoring Wilson’s approaching figure._

_Tony nods at you_ (“Rhodes is in critical condition, ambulance ETA 5 minutes…”, says DAHLIA)_, but he says nothing as Wilson mutters an apology. Dad’s fuming, and quite frankly, so are you._

_You stalked over to him and socked Wilson right in the jaw, gauntlet still on, and took no shame in the satisfaction you felt as you watch him get knocked back a good distance. It’s even better when he doesn’t get up._

_Good. _

_As much as Rhodey would admonish you for your train of thought, you’d have no trouble forgiving Wilson if he was the one lying unconscious in the crater instead.)_

“Oh yeah, did I not tell you?” You let go of Rhodey but keep in close proximity to him as your dad strides in holding a StarkPad.He greets you with a kiss to the cheek, and you weakly push him away with shaking hands. You pray no one notices your short breath and sweaty palms. He chuckles and stands next to Rhodey, who’s already got an exasperated but amused smile as he looks at Tony.

“Rhodey-bear’s got military leave- what was it, 2 weeks?”

“3, actually. For a so-called genius, you sure do suck at getting information right.”

You stand there, still uncharacteristically silent as you watch them banter. They start walking but you stayed back, watching them strut out of the room as if no one else existed.

You didn’t follow them as everything around you blurred; all except for Rhodey’s legs. Legs that weren’t being supported by a pair of Stark leg prosthetic. Legs that hadn’t been completely detached of all feeling and movement from the waist down.

Legs that were still healthy.

You haphazardly leaned against the wall and tried to focus on the floor as the walls wobble around you. The pounding in your head is practically tearing your skull apart.

_(The file haunts you._

_You gaze at the hologram floating in front of you, and you desperately try to look elsewhere._

_There are pictures of potted plants adorning the files. There’s a bunch, and none of them really correlate with one another. There’s also a series of pictures, remnants of an explosion and ashes of what used to be a pot sprinkled in there too. There are ones of humans- people you don’t recognize save for a few. And again, there’s also pictures of an explosion, black ashes covering walls with no remains next to them._

_Your finger itches to reach out and open the file further, damn near desperate to do anything to rectify what happened to Rhodey. It burns in your soul, knowing that a solution was just this close to you, so damn near close, yet so far away._

_You didn’t need to open this file if none of this happened. If Rhodey hadn’t been paralyzed from the fall. Rage seeps into your fingers as you grip the table painfully, knuckles white._

_If only Romanoff wasn’t so prone to Roger’s baby blues and knew how to keep to aside. If only Rogers had just signed the damn Accords. If only Maximoff could just get it through her thick skull Tony only wanted to keep her safe from the public._

_If only Barton just kept his head down and stayed in retirement. If only Wilson didn’t dodge, damned what’d have happened to him._

_If only…_

(If only you had been faster.)

_A scream erupts deep within you as you swipe everything off of your table. You slam your fist into the table repeatedly, not noticing the red smearing, the searing pain, or FRIDAY and DAHLIA’s concerned voices as your wails drown the world out._

_You don’t notice how Pepper abruptly shows up to your lab, disheveled in her pajamas and hugging you from behind tight. You don’t notice how she managed to bypass your blackout mode and how the glass window panes clear up again. You don’t notice the wetness seeping into your back, or the slight shake of her trembling hands._

_You don’t notice how you stopped screaming and started shaking, sobbing into your mother’s shoulder as she whispered nothing short of comforting words in your ears. _

_You don’t even notice Rhodey’s gaze as he arrives, unsteady in his leg braces, looking at you and Pepper with a haunted, condemned expression.)_

You jolted out of your thoughts as your dad calls out to you from down the hallway. You try to steady your voice, but with each sharp intake, it’s not as easy as said.

“Uh, yeah, yeah, uh- comin’! Coming…”

Ignoring your shaking hands, you jog over to where they are, pushing and repressing those memories back deep into the corners of your mind. That’s a whole can of worms you’d be more than happy to ignore indefinitely.

Now that you think about it, it’s kind of cruel being told that your death was necessary to win a war. Out of millions and millions of possibilities, _you_ had to be taken out of the equation for it to work.

Alone in your lab, you lay placid among your beanbag chairs. It’s been a few days since Rhodey’s come by to visit, a few days since your sudden migraine that was your flashbacks. Nothing much’s happened since then. You hung out with Rhodey, saw glimpses of the other Avengers here and there, but other than that… There wasn’t anything that was urgent in your schedule.

And that deeply unsettled you.

Things’ve been moving at too slow of a pace, and quite frankly, you’ve only got so much time before the clock ticks to zero. And in hindsight, there was a lot that you had to be prepared for.

There was Project Insight, Ultron, the Accords…

And there were the individual people themselves you had to worry about. The twins, T'Challa and T'Chaka- along with Wakanda as a whole-, Peter, Strange, Danvers…

You already feel a dull thumping on your forehead just thinking about it all, and you didn’t even mention everyone else.

Slowly getting up from your beanbag chair, you trudged to your main seat and rolled over to your tables. It’s a mess; there are papers strewn about, some having to do with starting your senior year in high school, others are of mission reports. There are even stupid little sticky note doodles while you were procrastination once; a testament to how much time you’ve got, and how much of it was spent wasted.

You pushed all of them out of the way in one sweep, uncaring if any of it fell on the floor. 

“J.A.R.V.I.S., blackout mode.”

“Of course, young sir.”

The window panels darken, and J.A.R.V.I.S.’ voice quiets. The accent lights in the corners of your lab change from a calming pale blue to a neutral white, an indicator you’ve set up within the past few days. It helps tell you which A.I. is currently in the room. You know that if J.A.R.V.I.S. knew, he wouldn't say anything to anyone else (particularly your dad) about DAHLIA, but just in case.

Eventually, you’ll introduce the two sometime. DAHLIA says she doesn’t care if she meets J.A.R.V.I.S. or not, so you pretend not to notice how much lighter her voice is every time you mention her ‘uncle’ of sorts.

“DAHLIA, you up?”

It was satisfying to watch the neutral white LED lights blink into lime green. It means ‘new beginnings’, or so DAHLIA says. It’s nice in a way- that was the same color you had assigned to her in the future, too. Only this time it was by her own virtue.

”I can’t remember a time where I wasn’t.”

You rolled your eyes.

The _sass._

”_You_, start up a new project and title it_ 'Renaissance’_. I think now’s the time to kick it into high gear.“

The holograms around you flicker back to life, a soft green illuminating everything in your sight. A distinct folder pops up with the right title and opens up to a blank file. You’re almost buzzing in your seat as you began creating and titling new documents.

”Sure thing, doll. Anything you want me to start beforehand?”

You pause.

There were lots of things you needed to get done first before you even thought about doing anything else. There were people to recruit, a whole nation you needed to get in contact with, and the drafts of the Accords to be written.

But, for now, you’ll start small.

“Yeah- I, uh, need you to start a global search for someone.”

She hums, and in the corner of your eyes, you see a new file pop up. There’s a rendering of the globe with millions of dots littering the countries visible to you- there are even ones _around_ the planet as well. Cameras and available satellites, you realize.

Atta girl.

”Their name?”

A pair of blank steel blue eyes flash in your mind. Once did anger bubble in your throat when you saw them, but now only pity is what’s left in you as you recognize nothing but emptiness behind his eyes. While this was for the greater good that he was found as soon as possible, you’d be lying if you said it wasn't also for the man himself.

The sooner you get to him, the sooner he gets the proper help he deserves.

Reeling yourself back in, you promptly ignored your shaking hands and the flashes of a gleaming arm wrapping itself around your throat, eyes cold and uncaring.

”James Buchanan Barnes.”

_**A/N:** This chapter is the final chapter of the first 'arc’, so I’ve decided. There is a **high chance** that this story will not be canon complicit from now on. (Also, this chapter is shorter compared to the last chapter, and not as high quality- for that, I’m relatively sorry, but not really.)_

_Word of warning, we might also get more Team Cap critical (as shown in this chapter), but I promise if that’s the case, I’ll try not to make it a reoccurring theme in this story. 'Resentment is corrosive, and I (live for it) hate it.’ - T.S._

_I’m planning on bumping up the speed at which the story is progressing- like, fast. My plan is that the next arc (10 canon chapters, maybe some special chapters) we’ll deal with CA:TWS, AOU, and maybe CA:CW all in one go if I go with my current plans for AOU. (That also means each chapter will be significantly longer, too.) _

_And as for the romance- I’ll also try to include more scenes that aren’t as subtle as hell (like the one with Steve and Thor before the last chapter). We’ll see what goes on beyond that as we progress. Feel free to leave any suggestions as to how the plot should progress (or even suggestions for the romantic scenes lol). :)_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You have an episode over Rhodey, and you've had enough of taking it slow.
> 
> ___
> 
> A/N: This chapter is the final chapter of the first 'arc’, so I’ve decided. There is a high chance that this story will not be canon complicit from now on. (Also, this chapter is shorter compared to the last chapter, and not as high quality- for that, I’m relatively sorry, but not really.)
> 
> Word of warning, we might also get more Team Cap critical (as shown in this chapter), but I promise if that’s the case, I’ll try not to make it a reoccurring theme in this story. 'Resentment is corrosive, and I (live for it) hate it.’ - T.S.
> 
> I’m planning on bumping up the speed at which the story is progressing- like, fast. My plan is that the next arc (10 canon chapters, maybe some special chapters) we’ll deal with CA:TWS, AOU, and maybe CA:CW all in one go if I go with my current plans for AOU. (That also means each chapter will be significantly longer, too.) 
> 
> And as for the romance- I’ll also try to include more scenes that aren’t as subtle as hell (like the one with Steve and Thor before the last chapter). We’ll see what goes on beyond that as we progress. Feel free to leave any suggestions as to how the plot should progress (or even suggestions for the romantic scenes lol). :)


	12. Special: I Feel BLU, I Miss U (Morgan H. Stark)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As far as the public knew, dahlias were your favorite flowers. Morgan says otherwise.
> 
> ___
> 
> Setting: 2023

Contrary to popular belief, dahlias weren’t really your favorite flowers. 

Morgan knew this as a fact, even at an early age. So when she asked her mom why people were pilling said flowers outside of Stark Tower- among all the other stuff already there from weeks before-, Morgan was confused as to why her mom said ‘it was your brother’s favorite’.

They weren’t. Despite being so young, she distinctly remembers when she found out otherwise.

_(“Wha’s t'is?”_

_It a warm spring day, a day that she got to spend time with you, and she wanted to go prancing around into your flower bed. It wasn’t often they’d spend time at his house, which was a shame since she really liked your garden. There are a plethora of flowers surrounding the two of them, but Morgan points towards a specific flower._

_Back turned to her, you absentmindedly hum an answer. She can’t see what you’re doing, but she’s too mesmerized by a certain flower to care. It’s a pretty blue, with lots of petals, and there are some little flying things around it buzzing about._

_“A lollipop.”_

_“A lol'pop?”_

_Just as you turn around, Morgan reaches out and grabs at the petals. She hears you huff and shuffles over to where she was crouching. She yanks, pulling a few petals out and just as she was about to stuff them in her mouth, she hears you laughing._

_“Aye- no- quit tryna ta’ stick 'em in your mouth,” you reach over and pulls Morgan away from the flowers, chuckling as she falls limp in your grip like jelly. She likes hearing you laugh. “'less you want me to bite your fingers off!" _

_She falls into a giggling fit as you nip at her fingers. You pluck the fallen petals and sprinkle them in the dirt. Morgan, with a big grin (and a few missing teeth), settles right next to you. You’re both sat on the stone walkway. She points towards the flowers she just tried to eat._

_"Wha’s t'at?" she repeats._

_"Dahlias. They come in a whole bunch of pretty colors.” Now that she thinks of it, there were a bunch of flowers similar to it. _

_She glances up at you. It’s a familiar name for sure, one that she hears you talking to a lot. A female voice rings in her head, and she lights up._

_“Jus' like t'e one that- that soun’s like Tor?”_

_You make a funny face and pause before snorting. Morgan swears she heard a faint whisper- a female voice- but she’s not too sure if she actually did hear it or not. She doesn’t care though, too busy looking at you for an answer. You grin, amused._

_“Yeah, just like the one that sounds like Thor.”_

_“Did ya’ name her t'at 'cuz you like dahlias the mos’?”_

_You shift, expression changing, and Morgan scrunches her nose as you wipe her face clean of any muck from the flowers. You brush stray strands of her hair back gently and answers with a soft voice._

_“People always think that, but dahlias were never a favorite of mine…” Your eyes glaze over for a split second, voice quieter, “Just named her that for funsies.”_

_She didn’t know what that funny feeling in her chest was when you said that, but looking back on it now, even at a young age she definitely picked up on the lies in your mouth. But she said nothing of it, instead opting to point at other flowers and asking about them._

_Granted, she didn’t notice how your shoulders eased up when she didn’t pry.)_

But another thing that confused her was _why _they were placing dahlias there in the first place. She kinda has a vague understanding of why there were flowers and stuff for her dad- he’s not coming back for a long, long time, and everyone misses him.

Of course, she misses her dad too. She knows that he’s… Never really gonna come back home. As much as she waits for him to pop into her room to tuck her into bed, only her mom tells her goodnight nowadays. It’s not him who plays with her before lunchtime, it’s always someone else now. It’s nice- she gets to talk with Uncle Happy and Uncle Rhodey more. But as much as she’d rather it be her dad there for her, she understands he’s not coming back.

But for people to put flowers for you? 

It made no sense to her.

Her mom says it’s because you’re not coming back either, just like dad. Morgan’s confused, and when she tries to tell her that you’re not gone and that you’re coming back, she only gets a strange expression from her mom.

'Oh, sweetheart…’ she says.

But Morgan doesn’t really dwell on it for long when her mom switches the channel to Nickelodeon. And besides, she’s not really upset about you being gone right now. You’re gone a lot- she sometimes doesn’t even see you for a month sometimes. She knows you’re busy. So this isn’t really different this time around.

Besides, she knows you’ll come back soon.

After all, you promised to play house with her when you come back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Morgan reflects over your 'favorite' flowers.


	13. Logs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Setting: 2013.

**[Action: enter folder titled ‘Project Renaissance’.]**

...

**[Enter Password: |]**

**[Enter Password: 1R0NM4NSU|]**

**[Enter Password: 1R0NM4NSUXXAP3XRUL35 |]**

**[Action: enter.]**

...

**[Password Accepted.]**

**[Accessing…]**

**[Enter folder name.]**

**[Action: “video logs”.]**

**[Searching…]**

**[Folder ‘Video Logs’ found. Would you like to play from the beginning?]**

**[Action: “Yes.”]**

...

**[Playing… “uh i don’t know name it whatever you want”, date created: 10-23-2013.]**

...

...

“Is this thing on? Hello? Hell-o?”

The video feed shows your lone figure in your lab. It’s dark outside as the timestamp in the corner indicates that it’s half past midnight. You’re sitting directly in front of the camera, dressed in pajamas but no signs of fatigue anywhere.

You visibly huff, but only mirth flickers through your eyes as you look directly into the camera. It doesn’t last long as your eyes travel over to the camera feed and now you’re just looking at yourself as you begin to talk.

“Alright, so uh. Yadda yadda yadda, I planned to manually enter and type all of this out, but… I thought why not record it all in a log along the way? Fun, huh?”

You trail off on that thought, mumbling something about ‘well, that’s what my therapist said, anyways. Ah, wait, I don’t have her yet… mm, should probably look into that…’.

“Anyways, this is day one of Project Renaissance, or as it’s also known as, Project Get-Our-Shit-Together-Before-We-Get-Our-Lives-Rocked-By-Thanos.”

You shrug nonchalantly, but to the keenest of eyes, there was a stiffness in your posture when you mentioned Thanos. It was brief, but present nonetheless as it quickly dissipates from your shoulders.

“And, we don’t have to worry about any of this being leaked or whatever, because this is all on my sweet DAHLIA’s servers! Say something to the camera.”

“Something to the camera,” a dull female voice spoke up from the ceiling, Australian accent thick.

“Charming,” you purse your lips as if to hold back a smile, “Anyways, where was I…”

“Oh, yeah- Renaissance. So this is gonna be a long, long project with a bunch of other mini-folders inside.”

You swiped your hands across the air, slicing through as blue holograms appeared in front of the camera. There were already dozens of folders, but the camera catches only a few of their names.

‘Firecracker’, ‘Thunderpants’, and ‘Accords’ are some that are visible.

“I just wanted to get on base with what we have so far, but it’s not much considering it’s, y’know, only day one.”

You mumble something incoherent away from the camera before gazing back up on the camera feed, not quite looking directly into the camera itself. To the left of you, there’s a hologram of a checklist that you occasionally glance through as you resume speaking.

“Main objective of this project: prevent Thanos from decimating half of the universe, preferably killing him in the process. Side objectives: keep the Avengers together, current members optional, new members in need nonetheless. Contenders in another file.”

You glance at the checklist.

“Current objective: locate and capture Barnes, codename Winter Soldier, and any other Winter Soldiers, and sift through S.H.I.E.L.D.’s database for traces of HYDRA.”

“Sidenote: we, ah, started the search yesterday- for Barnes. So far, it’s… Not really promising. I, uh, initially gave the timeline to find Barnes a few days max, but man, I’m starting to doubt that…”

You sigh, scratching at your arm irritably.

“Whatever…” you mumbled.

“Anyways.”

“I, ah, I don’t know for sure what I want to do with Barnes, but considering that I’ll probably have more than ample time to think about it, I’m not worrying about it too much. As for his triggers…”

You glanced at an adjacent folder, almost contemplating.

“I know of one person who can help, but I’m not exactly putting too much hope for that one. So.”

“We might have to resort to B.A.R.F. when it’s ready. DAHLIA, who- who was on that case again?”

“Mr. Quentin Beck and his team, doll.”

“Ah, yeah, Beck. Cute, tall, big ole’ eyes?”

An image hologram pops up in front of you, presumably of Quentin Beck.

“I don’t know about ‘cute’, but in essence? Yep.”

You ignored DAHLIA’s apparent judgment in your taste in men.

“Gotcha. Well, there’s that we can resort to if need be. Um…”

“Well, as for HYDRA, that’s… That’s a whole ‘nother can of worms right there.”

You sighed, and this is the first inkling of exhaustion you’ve shown so far. You deflate a little bit and spend the next few minutes staring at something behind the monitor in silence. You’re deep in thought before your phone buzzes.

Then, the video feed cuts off.

…

… 

**[Video end. Selecting next in queue…]**

**[Playing… “okay don’t do that weird thing where you record everything i say and make it the title, please dahlia anyways uh i wanna name it uh huh um shit dahlia i swear to god stop doing that”, date created: 11-02-2013.]**

…

…

“Wow, alright, I was watching the last log last night and man did I literally got nothing done. I mean, it was the first day, but still! Still, I fucking…”

Your voice trails off as you walk away from the screen, holding what appears to be a big box filled with papers and envelopes. You set it down in the far corner of the lab, still talking but your words are unintelligible as the microphone is too far to hear anything.

“... And yet here I am, just- ugh!”

You dropped your body onto the chair and plopped right in front of the screen. Your hair is disheveled, undersuit still on. There’s a bruise forming on your forehead, but you don’t really seem to care about your messy appearance.

You pointed a lazy finger towards the corner, a small grin as you try to line it up with the camera feed.

“That’s fanmail- apparently someone has been neglecting to read those… It’s me, I’m someone.”

You chuckle to yourself.

“Mm, I’ll read myself to sleep later, probably hang all of it up on a mural wall somewhere. Or the ceiling, that works too. Anyways. Just went on a, shall I say, self-imposed mission. It was, ah, to look for Barnes.”

You sheepishly smiled.

“‘Was followin’ a lead from DAHLIA, a potential hit marker, but- it was just a- a barely running base. Nothin’ new, but- it’s nice. To fly and- and fight in the suit every now and then.”

You shake your head.

“Not the- the current one. The nanite one. It’s- god, I miss it, you know?”

Your eyes glaze over, a faraway glint in your eyes as you paused your ranting. This goes on for about 24 more seconds before you started talking again, voice smaller.

“I did this thing, with dad. After the whole, um, Accords bullshit. He- we would get into our suits- the newer models, and just… Go at each other. No repulsors, no nothing. Just raw, brutal punches in the suit. No holding back, no making sure the other one’s okay after a good blow… Just… We just hailed on each other, you know?”

“I mean, obviously we weren’t trying to kill each other, but sometimes it… It felt close, y’know? Nothing personal, but… It was primal, sometimes. Sometimes he’d knock my jaw a little too loose and all I’d ever see would be red… It was wild, I’ll tell you that.”

“But- we only did it here and there, considerin’, y’know. He’s-... He was getting older, and I was… getting busier.” You sighed. “No one knew about it either; god knows how Rhodey or ma’ would react to us- just- beating the shit out of each other.”

You smiled, though it looked more like a grimace.

“It was fun, though. Get the frustrations out. Work on our weaknesses. Show no hesitation. It’s…”

There’s a sudden hollowness in your eyes as your face shifts, an expression years older than you were currently. Haunted, almost. You shake your head, whatever traces of your former self now gone as you smiled- though, there was nothing genuine to that smile at all.

“... Not important. Anyways.”

You shifted in your seat, clearly uncomfortable at the stagnant air despite being the only one in the room.

“So yeah. HYDRA. I took out everyone at that base. Nothing left. Downloaded whatever they had, wiped it, then burnt it to a crisp. The usual, nothing new, nothing important…”

You shrugged, “It’s harder to get the Avengers to look the other way when I’m doing these solo missions. I’m pretty sure Natasha’s getting sus about this… Nothing tied to me, but. Still.”

“But yeah, DAHLIA’s sifting through the information right now.”

Your eyes shift to the left, presumably a screen with said findings loading in.

“So-o... There was… There was that.”

You paused, trying to gather your thoughts when your eyes flickered.

“Ah- but to continue to the last log; HYDRA… Man. HYDRA, HYDRA, HYDRA. Always a pain in the ass.”

You scowled.

“I thought it was gonna take me a little longer to sift through the S.H.I.E.L.D. database, but surprisingly enough, it was… Kind of easy to sort out HYDRA and Not-HYDRA.”

You scratched your head in confusion.

“Back a couple of years ago- or, well, in… Next year, actually. June? Well- Team Cap is gonna go haywire on S.H.I.E.L.D. and HYDRA and Project Insight and basically dump all that good-good, and we,” you noted with an oddly bitter tone, “were left to clean up the mess they made. And, well, it exposed a lot of active field agents. Shit, man.”

You scrubbed your face with your hands, which were marred with fresh scratches and burn marks. It’s unclear where they came from, but you don’t seem bothered by it.

“So many agents were killed in that stunt. God…”

Your voice is muffled, but still audible.

“There was one agent… Codename Acai. Sweet gal, ‘cording to her co-workers. Little unhinged, but she got the work done. She… She was undercover in North Korea for a few years. Got busted by the data dump. And…”

“God, they just…”

You sighed gruffly, refusing to look anywhere near the camera.

“It was rough, finding her body. Kept looking for her even months after the whole Ultron bullshit. By the time we got to her, it took us months to I.D. her body- even worse? North Korea already had her death listed as suicide under her fake name. Bullshit! Parts of her was missin’, how the fuck is that a suicide?! Both feet, gone. Her sternum was nowhere to be found. How- I just…!”

You gritted your teeth.

“I just don’t understand what they were thinking when they pulled that dumbass stunt to release all of that- that sensitive data…! I thought- oh, maybe, maybe, HYDRA had already corrupted a large part of S.H.I.E.L.D., that’s why they did it!”

“But no! No- do you know how much of S.H.I.E.L.D. was infected? How much?!”

You pinched your fingers together and squinted at the camera with a visceral smile.

“6 percent. That 6 percent accounted for a majority of the higher-ups. Not lower field combatants. Not the technicians. The higher-ups.”

“6 percent of S.H.I.E.L.D. was HYDRA,” you hissed, “yet they still endangered the other 94% active and non-active members! Fuck- it was a miracle! A miracle, that we got to any of the agent’s family that had been documented before HYDRA or anyone else could!”

“It’s a miracle that the Bartons even made it- and we didn’t even know about them until Ultron! It’s just-... Fuck!”

Growling, you knocked your head against the metal table in front of you. The camera shakes a little bit.

“God, Romanoff, what the fuck were you thinkin’? You were supposed to keep them in check, not… Not be so goddamn stupid!”

You growled under your breath, taking a moment to breathe. You lifted your head up with a neutral face and exhaled.

“Whatever. What’s done is done. I’ve- I’ve had years to simmer over it and I’m- I’m not. Angry. I swear I’m not. It’s done, it happened. But. Hopefully in this timeline… It won’t happen. Not like that, at least.”

There was a peculiar glint in your eyes as you started reaching into one of your cabinets.

“And I know just how to stop it.”

You raised your eyebrows with your eyes closed, reluctant to repeat what you had already said.

“Again, sifted through S.H.I.E.L.D. for HYDRA. Got the information. And it is all. In. Here.”

You pulled back up to reveal a small black USB flash drive. There’s nothing of interest to it on the outside, but it’s what’s inside that really, really counted.

“This bad boy has all the shit that HYDRA’s been skeemin’ all up in S.H.I.E.L.D.’s system. I- well.”

“I actually have 2 of these, but, ah. One’s already on the way to ole’ Saint Nick.”

You brushed a hand through your hair. It’s grown quite a bit and in need of trimming.

“Because if there’s one thing I know for sure about S.H.I.E.L.D.? Nick ain’t apart of HYDRA, no matter how much of a scumbag he is. And, really… I’d like to think I trust him to handle this situation properly- more so than anyone else but me and my dad. Obviously, dad can’t- he can’t ever know about… About this.”

Despite referring to the USB in your hands, your words were heavy nonetheless. It wasn’t just the flash drive you were referring to.

“So Fury’s getting the other bad boy. Worth millions, and 2 of a kind, too.”

“Well, I sent it to the bastard. Hopefully, he doesn’t trash it, or whatever. Soon.”

You hummed. Setting the USB down on the table, you made direct eye contact with the camera and posed with pouty lips. You threw up a peace sign ironically and grinned.

“Well, that’s that. Oh, and Clint vomited on Steve’s clothes yesterday. Not important, but funny nonetheless. Deuces!”

…

…

**[Video end. Selecting next in queue…]**

**[Playing… “dahlia we don’t have the fucking time for this get the damn suit”, date created: 11-29-2013.]**

…

…

“Hi.”

You’re still in your school clothes that day, a simple sweater and sweatpants. Your letterman is hanging on the back of your seat for going to the robotics competitions your school had. 

The timestamp also indicates that you had just gotten out of school too- though, it is considerably dark outside. Snowing that day, most likely. And still is, probably.

“So, uh. Fury got the message, I think.”

You spun around in your chair, knees up to your chest.

“Usually we’re getting harassed by him every now and then to do missions, but Natasha just came home yesterday sayin’, like. ‘Fury’s put my mission on hold’, or something.”

“He doesn’t know I sent it to him, I think. But. Thing’s’re getting pret-ty serious now, huh.”

You shrugged.

“Well, whatever. I didn’t come here to talk about Fury, though. I came here to update on, ah, a few things.”

“I know I haven’t touched base with- well, you,” You gave the camera a saucy wink, “about a lot of my projects so far. So, here are a few that I’ve been thinking of implementing.”

A picture is pulled up from your desktop. It’s an aerial shot of a brunet talking to his friend, both of a juvenile appearance. There’s another picture, a 3D generated image of a red and blue suit.

“So. Peter Parker.”

Sigh.

“I… really, really, really don’t want him to be involved in any of this. No superhero bullshit, no nothing.”

“He’s young. He doesn’t- doesn’t need to be involved with this mess. I just… I just want him to have a normal life.”

‘One I never got to have; one he’ll never get to have,’ goes unsaid, but you continued on.

“But… By my reasoning, I am… Hypocritical in my justification.”

You paused, frowning as you look at the picture long and hard. When you speak up, your voice is noticeably quieter.

“He was just as old as I was when I started this whole Apex mantle thing. Hell, he might’ve been older. Will be older. And quite frankly, I can’t stop him even if I wanted to. He’ll still do it, still go out and fight and just-...”

“He’ll do it unsupervised, and that’s what scares me the most.”

You mumble under your breath, “He reminds me too much of… Me. Young, dumb, and reckless as all hell.”

You shook your head and pulled up another file. This one’s a text file, and it’s detailed enough to go on for pages and pages, but clearly there’s more to be added.

“So, what I’m hoping to do is… Start an internship program. Start- start him early. The sooner, the better control he’ll have over his powers. The better experience he’ll get. And, of course, with the additional benefits of, well. Being in an actual internship program.”

“What that will intel? I don’t know. But I think… I think both the students and SI can- can benefit off of that.”

“So, that was one of my projects. Another one is about, well.”

You swallowed hard for this one.

“Extremis.”

You held your hands up as if trying to halt the camera- even the viewer- from freaking out.

“Listen, look, I know, I know- ‘oh, Extremis is already stabilized, oh, why mess with it even more, oh, just leave it alone it’ll make you explode into a thousand firecrackers, oh’- I get it. I know.”

“But… Listen to me.”

“I really, really do think Hansen was onto something with Extremis, no matter how evil and fucked up it is now. It… With a little bit of love and care, I really do think it can help. Maybe not- not on a mass-production scale- or for commercial use, period- but still.”

You licked your lips, eyes flickering to a picture of you, Tony, and Rhodey eating ice cream on your desk.

“I… It can be a last resort type of thing. It- it has the potential. So, so much potential.”

You chuckled to yourself.

“Well, it’s not like you- whoever else that isn’t me that’s watching this- can convince me otherwise. Don’t worry, no live subjects. No evil scientist bull, just… Just trust me, please.”

It’s unclear who exactly you’re referring to, but it’s as if there’s a specific person you’re trying to plead with despite knowing that no matter what, this footage- along with the rest- will be forever condemned to rest in the grave that is DAHLIA’s protected database.

“So, yeah. Working a little bit on Extremis. Um, I wish I could say that the next projects are more- light-hearted, but. Not really, no.”

“I’m… Well, there’s no easy way to say this: I’m thinking of filing a class-action lawsuit on Ross.”

And with that bombshell of an announcement to the camera, the Avengers alert rang across the building.

“Fuck- DAHLIA, end it- put me on comms!”

…

…

**[Video end. Selecting next in queue…]**

**[Playing… “i am so mad i didn’t think about this before dahlia change the mission objective”, date created: 12-18-2013.]**

…

...

“Would you believe me if I said I completely forgot about these whole video log things?”

Your back is turned to the camera, completely shirtless and hair dripping wet. You’re texting someone, and you’re typing a little bit furiously. The camera catches the other person sending a cat picture. You huff, but turn your phone off and set it to the side.

“So. Ross.”

You shake your head.

“Sorry to drop a bombshell like that on you,” you quietly address the camera, “then disappear on a mission, but-”

“There’s nothing concrete now. Just- it’s just an idea. I think…”

“I think Bruce would like it. There’s- there’s a lot of dirt on Ross. So much shit that can get him life, too. Maybe even death if we play our cards right, but… I want that bastard to suffer. And quite frankly, if I can get rid of him now, the better the Avengers will be in the future.”

You rolled your shoulders, a satisfying crack echoes from you and you grinned for a moment, before smoothing your face out into something more neutral. You leaned back in your chair, and take a breather.

“So, uh. It’s been… Over a month, I’d say? Since I started these whole video logs. Um… No traces on Barnes. It’s…”

You glance up at the ceiling with a pained expression.

“It’s frustrating as hell. You’d think, with access to a majority, if not all of the satellites and cameras and whatnot, we’d find him easier…”

“It’s like he’s not even doing anything, at all. No missions, no assassinations or whatever… Nothing. Nada. It’s like… It’s like he’s not even being deplo-”

You paused. It’s clear that the gears inside your head are turning. You narrowed your eyes, a smile threatening to break out as you reached towards the camera buttons.

“Sonnofabitch.”

…

…

**[Video end. Selecting next in queue…]**

**[Playing… “i won’t let history repeat again starting with him”, date created: 12-29-2013.]**

…

...

“So. I’m, uh, major update.”

Unlike the previous video logs where you were in your lab, this one is different. The camera is a lot closer to your face and from a bottom perspective as you hold the camera. 

You’ve got part of your helmet, chest plate, shoulders, gauntlets, and presumably your boots still on as your steps are heavy and clanking. There’s blood smeared across your forehead. You’re slightly out of breath as you glance at something outside of the camera’s perspective.

Around you, the view is shaky and it’s unclear where you’re walking. None of the interior decors indicates that you’re in the tower- in fact, it’s barren and empty.

You glance down at the camera view.

“Remember the last log? Well, I uh, sort of had an epiphany, if you will.”

You continue walking, but you’ve reached a door mechanism. You punch in some numbers and continue talking as the doors open wide.

“It was strange, that I got no hits of a Winter Soldier stalking around anywhere. Sure, he’s a trained spy and killer, but no one’s that slick- not even Natasha, as much as she thinks otherwise.”

You’re in an elevator now, catching your breath slightly as you drew your eyebrows together. There’s a dinging noise, indicating the floors you’re ascending- or descending, as it’s unclear what story you’re on.

“It was like there was no Winter Soldier; at least, no active one.”

“That got me thinking. He’s- what- from the 20’s? He should’ve been, say, early thirties, so 31? 32? At the time he went missing, anyways. But the thing is… Even in the future, the man looks barely in his late thirties. Barely.”

You tap your feet impatiently, boots echoing in the small space.

“But he’s been the Winter Soldier for, what, almost 70 years? Shit don’t add up.”

“So, while he’s practically responsible for so many goddamn murders, he’s probably not always… Awake. Active. I was thinking, shit, if he ain’t up and about right now, where the hell is he?”

“So I did some more digging. Found a Winter Soldier file in S.H.I.E.L.D.- er, HYDRA’s database. There’s… A bunch. Of the Winter Soldiers, I mean. But none of them were- was Barnes. Just a bunch of knock offs.”

You glance up at the floor indicator. The camera shifts and the numbers blink downwards.

-3… -4… -5...

“But I found something interestin’. There’s a- a list. Of HYDRA bases. Had no idea what they were for, but I took a hot guess.”

“One of them was Siberia. First one I went to- no Barnes. A bunch of other Winter Soldiers, though. The failed ones.”

“I…”

There’s a moment of hesitation, unsure if you should say what you’re about to say.

“I shot them dead.”

The ball drops just as the elevator dings, doors opening as you stepped out with a confidence that doesn’t match the remorse in your eyes.

“It’s. Look, I know it- that’s fucking. Insane. Inhumane. Murder. I don’t care. It’s- it’s too goddamn dangerous, having them- alive! I don’t know if there was any- any redemption for them.”

“But in the end, they- they were willing soldiers for HYDRA. The best, even. Anyone who- who willingly works for HYDRA… I’m not too sure I can trust them.”

You growled.

“Shit, I trusted Maximoff… And look where that got us.”

“I’m not fucking risking it with them.”

You shook your head, face smoothing out so it’s only the stressed wrinkles on your forehead that’s present. Your eyes soften minutely so.

“But for Barnes… There’s a chance. He’s a goddamn POW, and… If Shuri succeeded in getting rid of the trigger words, then there’s. A. Chance.”

“And… I’m willing to take that risk with him.”

The camera shifts, staring directly at the underside of your jaw. You cough and recalibrate the camera so it’s at a better angle.

“Anyways.”

“I… I went down the list. Of the bases? I didn’t- didn’t infiltrate them per se. It’s too risky- a majority of those bases are major ones. So I just… Snuck around. Looked at the infrastructure for anything that remotely looked like a certain Winter Soldier would be in.”

You stopped walking, now staring directly at something behind the camera. Your lips are pressed in a grim line.

“And I hit the jackpot.”

You should be happy about it if you took those words out of context, but your expression is far from it. Guilt, pity, and an earthly weariness mares your eyes as you huff.

“Everybody, say hi to Mr. James Buchanan Barnes.”

The camera view flips, and in the front stage center is a big chamber, similar to that of a hulk play box. But while it is smaller, the glass is noticeably thicker. In the corner, outside of the chamber, is Mark 22 standing eerily still with its glowing eyes trained on Barnes. It’s in a neutral stance, but it’s clear that it won’t hesitate to incapacitate the soldier if it came down to it.

And on the furthest wall inside the chamber is Barnes, slumped on the ground with a pool of water around him. He’s wet as well, but unconscious. He’s in his military tactical gear, too, though there are no weapons visible on him.

The microphone picks up your sigh.

“I… I don’t know what to do with him. I- I saw the fucking- freezer they kept him in, but. It was a quick operation- I had no time to get the damn thing out without them- HYDRA- noticing me. So. Guess that throws out the plan to keep him- frozen like a popsicle until further notice.”

Barnes twitches slightly, and his fingers move. There’s an audible grunt, and your breath hitches as you swerve the camera back on you. Your eyes are wide, and you throw the camera a nervous grin that’s more akin to a grimace. In the background, your suit whirs to life.

You gave a nod to the camera.

“Wish me luck.”

…

…

**[Video end.]**

**[Play again?]**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A series of logs (not completed) of you and your journey through Project Renaissance. You kidnapped Barnes after months of looking for him.


	14. Circumvention

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Setting: 2013

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Missed y'all. I don't think I'm officially off of my hiatus, but I somehow managed to pull a chapter out of my ass after months of radio silence. I really did back myself into a corner with the last chapter, but hey, this is my story and I get to pace it however I want.
> 
> Sorry if things are worded weirdly, I'm writing them but they're going through one ear and out the other when it comes to comprehending what I actually wrote. No one will remember what happened, but that's okay. God, I really need a beta-reader... Anyways. Love y'all. XOXO.
> 
> Also, sorry if any of the formattings seems off. HTML doesn't really translate well over certain sites. (Tumblr, Quotev, Wattpad, and AO3 are now my main places for posting my works. Anywhere else, that's not me nor was it permitted by me.)
> 
> _______
> 
> If you want a recap: You're in the process of jumpstarting Project Renaissance after realizing that you've just been doing basically nothing ever since you woke up in your old body. You've also taken to making video logs to report down your progress, and in the last chapter (that was in the POV of multiple video logs), it ended on a cliffhanger with Barnes being discovered and moved to a safe house.
> 
> This chapter takes place roughly after the last one.
> 
> If you're currently binge reading this story, this recap is only because last chapter was updated... Roughly more than 7 months before this chapter. So. Yeah. :D
> 
> Oh, and let's pretend that either A. Barnes doesn't have a tracking chip in his arm OR B. he did, but you got it out during the whole rescue-escapade. That's my bad, I straight up forgot about that possibility until I was like, close to 4000 words deep into this chapter. Now we're at roughly 8k+... Hehe. Whoops.

You're not gonna call Barnes, _Bucky_.

There's a personal touch to the nickname that bothers you. How awful it sounds in your ears, to call the former husk of a man a name he no longer recognizes. There's history to that name, both on writing and in memory, though only in sparsity. Plus, it'll be difficult for you to associate Bucky to Barnes. A man with an identity to a man without.

So after the whole debacle of getting him out of the mini-Hulk playbox and into decent dry clothing, when he asks what his name is, you quietly debated to yourself what to tell him.

"... Your name is James Buchanan Barnes," you'd eventually reply.

He doesn't comment on the resignation in your tone, but you're confident that he certainly noticed it- surely, the ticks of being the Winter Soldier was still there, no matter how disoriented he must be. But whether courtesy was something that he hadn't forgotten whilst his brain was refried over and over like leftover KFC wings _or _he was simply too exhausted to ask, you didn't care.

Granted, for a man who should have a lot of questions on his mind, he's definitely proven himself to be a man of very few words.

An hour goes by, and in the midst of you trying your best to build a solid standing between the two of you, he's said so few words that you could probably count all of them on both of your hands.

If it weren't for the nods of affirmation, you'd think that his averted gaze from you would have meant that he wasn't paying attention at all, but honestly, you knew better than to judge him for that if he actually _wasn't_ actually listening in the first place.

Hell, he could tear up the walls to the high heavens and you still wouldn't hold him against it, so you were just thankful that he was so docile, for someone who could snap your neck if he felt so inclined.

Though, as it turns out confusion and disorientation wasn't the actual reason why he was being so docile, you belatedly realize as you're stood in front of a blank-faced Barnes. You're in the middle of trying to give him a basic tour around the house when he quietly interrupted your monologuing.

"Mission parameters," you echoed his words, though mainly to yourself. He nods, and for once meets your eyes. There's neither confidence nor surrender in his eyes, and that makes your stomach churn. Chances are, he probably saw nothing wrong with asking such a thing.

"You want me to give you- mission parameters. Like- like your handlers would?" You laughed incredulously, but the humor was replaced with subdued hysterical horror.

You were aware of what they were. Aware of the types of hunts his Handlers- bastards- would sick him out on. Aware of what he did without a second thought. You saw those files, if only briefly. That was more than enough for you to see the type of expectations that came alongside "mission parameters".

He nods as if you were stating the obvious.

God.

You opened and closed your mouth, and for a split second, once you got past the horror of being asked to tell him what to do, a subtle realization crawled up your spine. In the midst of your impromptu introduction and briefing, you never really made a distinction as to what role you were supposed to play in all of this.

So it shouldn't be a surprise for Barnes to assume that you're his new- what? Handler? Caretaker? After all, as far as you can assume, that's probably all he knows; all he was conditioned to grow accustomed to, to expect his every move to be dictated by some outsider with no care to the wants or needs that Barnes has.

_(Hell, if you were to make a reach right now, maybe Barnes thinks he doesn't have wants or needs. That he shouldn't.)_

_(In the background, a part of you simmer in silence.)_

With your jaw clenched, you make an effort to make your voice as even as can be when you ask him, "You don't need mission parameters, Barnes. You're your own free man. You can- can make decisions on your own. You don't need me to tell you what you need to do."

Pray as you might, there's something about realizing that you said the wrong thing _right _after saying said words that make you wonder what you did to anger _the higher powers that be_ to put yourself in the situation you're in right now.

Barnes doesn't say anything, but his eyes says it all. Confusion. Realization. Grief. Detachment. His metal hand clenches, and you're man enough to admit that it made your heart stutter in fear.

"I...", he mutters, "... don't understand."

You swallowed.

This...

This is gonna be tough.

_______

It's difficult to explain what self-autonomy and freedom meant to a man who is only capable of remembering being chained and held on a leash like a rabid dog.

Thankfully, it was your winter break, so you had a manageable excuse for being away from "home" for a few days, but you only had so long to try and establish to Barnes that you're not going to be able to be there with him as often as you are now _(and even then, the time frame was too small to even make any sense of attachment)._

You knew for sure you couldn't always be there for Barnes, so one thing was certain: he had to meet DAHLIA. And thankfully, since the whole safe house was yours, not even your father knew that DAHLIA, your own A.I., would be uploaded into the houses' built-in hardware.

_(While the hardware was built with the intention of housing J.A.R.V.I.S. there as a standard, he ended up "moving out" the moment that the house became yours. Something about "not intruding on a teenager's privacy", but you're more than thankful for Tony's afterthought, even if you did end up taking slight advantage of his consideration.)_

And surprisingly enough, Barnes wasn't really bothered by the concept of DAHLIA as much as you had initially expected. Of course, he didn't really talk to her, but it wasn't like he talked much in the first place.

_(On a side note, it looks like DAHLIA seems to like the house, all things considered... So there's that.)_

_(The original DAHLIA was never installed here, instead she ended up "living" in a retirement house of sorts in a wooded area of New York. She never said anything about the house, so it's... Kind of endearing, to see that she actually might prefer this house instead. And mildly insulting, considering you personally decorated the other house.)_

You ended up spending nearly the whole night trying to establish even the most basic of guidelines: use the bathroom whenever he needed to_ (you initially said phrased it as "wanted", but he promptly cut you off saying "The Asset does not have wants," which, rude, but also sad);_ whatever is in the kitchen is available for him to eat whenever, where ever; basic hygiene; and the most important one- if he had any questions, his first source would be you. And on the off-chance that you're not available, DAHLIA is always online and ready to help.

He gave a tentative nod, but you're somehow not confident that he might have interpreted it wrong. You're hoping he doesn't do anything to prove you right.

"Alright. So. Any questions?"

He stares at you for a beat too long before shaking his head.

He's still giving non-verbal answers for the most part, but it's better than nothing. You internally sighed and motioned him to follow you deeper into the safe house.

Considering that it was already pretty late by the time you managed to beat those guidelines into his head _(maybe that should be worded better, but you never claimed to be a lyricist; it is what it is)_, he might be just as tired as you are from how long the day has been.

_(Granted, this dude has been "asleep" for who knows how long, but it's the thought that counts.)_

"You know where I'm taking you to?" you asked, not really expecting an answer from him.

"No," he responds from behind you. Color you surprised.

You turned into the hallway and stepped up to an unassuming door. You opened it to reveal an equally unassuming bedroom. Muted colors, modern design; it reeked Pepper's doing, knowing that Tony isn't as decoratively-_inclined _as she is.

Hah, bet she didn't expect that instead of housing you or your dad, it'll go to a super-solder that _wasn't Steve_ instead.

_(Not that Steve would ever have a reason to step foot in here, but in this line of work, you'd be stupid to be 100% sure about something.)_

You motioned him to come into the room and tilted your head to the bed.

"This is your bedroom, pretty much where you'll be sleeping. There's a bathroom right over there," you motioned to the door adjacent to the entrance door, "and I'll be in the room right next to yours."

Barnes takes a second to process it all, and with a quick scan of the room with calculating eyes, he nods. You absentmindedly scratched the back of your neck.

"I mean, there's plenty of rooms here so if you don't like this one, just let me know and we'll probably move you to another room-" you rambled, secretly trying to get a move on so you'd finally get some shut-eye.

_(What? You're not perfect, sleep is heavily slept on in this day and age. Hah.)_

_(God, you're definitely going to hell.)_

"-and you know how to use a toilet, right?"

The raised eyebrow pointed at you definitely proves that that was a pretty stupid question, but hey, you can't take any chances. You shrugged, a tired smirk threatening to form on your lips.

"Well then. Can I leave it to you to settle down for the night, or...?" you left it open-ended.

He didn't say anything in response, only stared at the bed in front of him. There was a pregnant pause, but he nodded at you. There was a strange tilt to his eyes, but you didn't bother to think further into it as you were just thankful that you could finally rest.

"Well then, good night Barnes. I'll come by tomorrow morning and we'll continue to, er," you thought about it, "_work_, on your situation."

You made a swift exit out of his room and immediately into "your" room, which was literally right next to his. You immediately discarded your clothes and with a brisk shower and teeth brushing, you promptly dropped straight onto the bed with an audible grunt, wet hair soaking straight into the pillow.

Pulling the plush duvet to cover your body, you reached for your phone to check for any messages you might have gotten.

_(3 from Tony; he asked where you were. You told him that you're staying at a safe house and that you needed a small break. It wasn't wrong, but definitely an omission of truth. A few days would be fine, right?)_

_(2 from Rhodey; it's a picture of a Goodwill's, and there's a silhouette in a nearby window of some guy. "This you?" he asks. "No ❤️," you sent back.)_

_(63 is from the group chat that the Avengers are in- ah, make that 64 and counting. It's just a bunch of nonsense from what you can gather, but you briefly scrolled through it anyways.)_

Turning your phone off, you smushed your face into the pillow and sighed, a terrible knot forming at the pit of your stomach. With an open ear, you tried to hear any noise that could come from Barnes' room, but considering that the walls were reinforced and he was already quiet as it is, all you could hear was the AC running in the background.

"DAHLIA," you huffed, eyes drooping, "keep an eye on him, wake me up if anything happens."

"Got it," her voice echoes from the ceiling speakers.

You quietly tucked yourself in bed. As the exhaustion finally started settling in your body, the last thought that lingered in your head was "Man, I hope nothing bad happens tomorrow," before you drifted right off to dreamless slumber.

_______

The next day was, to say the least, a little disconcerting, but a bigger improvement to be sure.

Right after waking up, you begrudgingly put on some daytime appropriate clothes and stepped out into the hallway. You knocked on the door that was right next to yours, and gingerly opened it when you didn't hear much of a response.

"Good morning," you tentatively greeted. Barnes was sitting at the foot of the bed when you knocked on his door. He mumbled back a greeting and stands up to your eye level.

His clothes are still the same from last night, and judging by the clean state of his bed, he either woke up earlier than you expected or he was sat like that the whole night.

You're not too keen on finding out which was the case, but you had to.

"Sleep well?"

You stepped out of the doorway and motioned him to follow you. Briefly glancing down at your phone to see just a few messages waiting for you, you opted to ignore them for now.

"I slept."

He quietly stated from behind you. He avoided saying if he slept well or not, but at least the damn Terminator slept. You mentally deflated a little; the bar was set so low for him, you're not too sure who it's more insulting to- you or him.

_(Of course, it's to him, that shouldn't be a question. Your feelings don't matter.)_

"We're gonna have to wing this a little, but uh, here's the general gist of what's gonna happen."

Stepping into the kitchen, you're taken aback to last night as he tentatively stands across from you from the kitchen island. Really, you'd opt to go to the living room, but you both radiate too much nervous energy to really sit.

You opened the refrigerator and sighed when all that greeted you was water and non-perishables. Right. You just got here, it's not like there's gonna be freshly stocked food in here 24/7.

"DAHLIA, order some fresh food and get it delivered today. Charge it on my debit," you mumbled quietly.

DAHLIA doesn't say anything, but the refrigerator lights flicker a familiar green hue that keys you in that she heard you. You raised an impressed eyebrow; what an unnecessary feature for a refrigerator to have. You closed the door and turned around to face Barnes.

"I'm here to serve as, say, a guide for," you gestured to him, "your... rehabilitation, of sorts."

"For now, I can't really offer any... Professional help, on a technical level. I'm not- that's not my area of expertise. I'm an engineer at heart," _actually, you really liked other things more than being an engineer, but your fate of becoming the CEO of SI was sealed the moment you decided to live with your dad_, "so we're going to have to make a compromise on that."

You shook your head.

"If you were anyone else, I'd point you to a shrink," Barnes gives you a confused stare.

"Therapist," you clarified. He nods.

"But quite frankly," Zemo's face flashes in your memory, "I don't trust anyone to properly... Well, I don't trust _anyone _when it comes to the mental health of you, and the Avengers too, of course."

Pausing mid-rant, you raised an eyebrow at him.

"You... _do_ know who the Avengers are, right?"

He nods and begins to rattle off a pre-scripted monologue. His eyes are blank as he started speaking.

"A group of top priority, compromised of highly skilled individuals, enhanced or otherwise specified. Threat priority ranges from 5 to 9. As of now, 6 active-duty members and 1 reserve member. The Asset is to not engage under any circumstance and reveal-"

"Alright alright, I get it- that's," _you're a little offended that you're considered a "reserve member", but that's not technically wrong_, "That's a lot to unpack there, but yeah. You- whew, you definitely know who the- _we _are."

_(You've gotten into the habit of distancing yourself from the Avengers the moment that you had become CEO. You're still working on that, but the word "we" still feels wrong on your tongue.)_

There's a little more life that came back to Barnes' eyes after you had snapped him out of it, and it's a bit surreal knowing that Barnes just kinda... runs on autopilot when prompted. The image of Barnes being strapped down in a chair and forced to learn and recite those kinds of things by heart is both horrifying and a little funny.

_(Do you think they had a set curriculum he had to learn by?)_

"So yeah. The Avengers gotta be careful when lookin' for shrinks, and so do you. There's just too many factors that go into gettin' a personal therapist. So for now," you shrugged, "you're stuck with me."

"What are they?"

"Hm?"

"The factors."

You shrugged.

"Well, for starters, you're- you _were_, HYDRA's prisoner," the muscle around his jaw visibly clenches when you mentioned HYDRA, but you powered through, "so they'll definitely be interested in getting their fight dog back. They're good at blending in and good at getting their musty little fingers into every nook and cranny. I wouldn't put it past them to have one of their agents go undercover as a therapist for hire. So that's one factor: trying to discern who is and isn't HYDRA."

You raised a finger.

"Then there's the fact that _because_ you're such a... shall we say, top priority, er, _asset_," that word runs bitter on your tongue, "even if your shrink _isn't_ HYDRA, they'll definitely be targeted _by_ HYDRA if it ever came to light that they have a direct link to you. So there's reason number two: loose ends, and the risks that come with it."

You raised another finger. By now, Barnes has a hard but contemplative curl to his lips.

"And then not to mention how _unique_ your case it. Barnes, you've been a POW for _decades. _Your brain- no offense buddy, but from what I can tell, it's been fried to hell and back. I don't even have to do any fancy brain scans to know. And that's not even including all the other stuff they probably did to you, only God knows."

You shook your head.

"There's too much at risk for you to get proper therapy right now. But. It's not impossible."

You think back to Shuri, and how she and the other Wakandan scientists were successful in both removing the trigger words and rehabilitating Barnes.

Well, you're not sure about the last part, since you never interacted with the Barnes of your time, but you'd assume that they _did_ help with his subsequent mental health. You wouldn't really put it past them- T'Challa was a nice guy, from your limited interactions with him way into the future, and Shuri was buzzing with ideas and energy. If T'Challa's sympathy for Barnes wasn't enough, then Shuri's crave to help and experiment would supplement the balance plenty. Vice versa, too.

So yeah, future-Barnes' mental health was most likely addressed during his time in Wakanda. And it was almost guaranteed to have been a success.

So you're still gonna hold a torch for the possibility that Barnes' can come out of this as a relatively well-adjusted guy.

Not to mention B.A.R.F. As far as you know, the R&D team assigned to that was still progressing smoothly, but the only downside to that was that it wasn't going to be until a few more years before it's "perfected".

You were never really involved in any way with B.A.R.F. since you were both prepping for SI and finishing college. Your dad was definitely more involved in it than you were, but it's not like you could ask him to pull a few year's worths of experimentation and knowledge out of his ass and exponentially boost the rate of B.A.R.F.'s progress, so.

Helen Cho suddenly sprang to mind, but you quickly threw away that thought. Your- well, _Barnes'_\- issue was neurological, Cho was all about cell regeneration and is a geneticist. So unless somehow the issue crosses over with Cho's line of work, she wasn't a possibility either. There was also Strange, but as far as you've heard the man was pretty... _abrasive_, even as a wizard. Hard to get a hold of, and very... Hard-headed.

Well, all of that was second hand since it came from Tony, but still. Maybe you could pull Tony in for some clout, but that'll just make him suspicious. God, maybe you shouldn't have kept the whole _"I'm actually from the future" _spiel a secret, otherwise you wouldn't have to be doing all this crap alone.

Oh well. In for a penny, out for a pound.

You sighed, already feeling the dull thump against your skull starting to form.

"So what now?" Barnes asks. He's less tentative than he was last night, but still soft-spoken when he talks.

"Well, you're stuck with me, bud. I'll do my best to get you prepped for the actual rehabilitation, but honestly, that might take a little longer than you'd expect. So, we'll just- well."

You eyed the outfit he was donning, which was literally your clothes- so it was a few sizes _too_ small for him. He doesn't really seem bothered by it, and if it weren't for the fact that he's sort of proved himself to be neglectful of voicing his own preferences, you'd be a little more inclined to appreciate the view of one very, _very_ beefy super-soldier.

But alas.

Life never really works in your favor, so.

"We'll need to get a few essential things out of the way. Food is already on its way, I assume you aren't allergic to anything?"

He pauses, and there goes that familiar glaze forming over his eyes. You sigh, knowing that he was probably searching through his mental "data-bases" for any allergies, but thankfully it's not long as he blinks back into attention.

"None."

"Yeah, I could'a figured, what with your super-soldier serum."

_(You're pretty sure that also makes him immune to cancer, but maybe that's just you glorifying it.)_

"So: the food situation is cleared. Now, we need to get you some new clothes because, uh, those don't look very comfortable."

"Comfort does not matter. I am adequately dressed."

You snorted. Maybe it's better that you don't tell Barnes that he's wearing a Sharknado tee and some sweats that have "Eat this!" printed on his behind.

_(And maybe it's better that you didn't remember that yes, these are indeed still your clothes.)_

"Comfort does matter, my guy. DAHLIA, take some quick measurements."

The kitchen light dims and brightens, shining lime green into the kitchen. It lingers and turns back into that white-blue that sometimes makes your eyes burn when you've been up for too late into the night.

"Seargent Barnes' measurements are now on file. You two want to see the available catalog?"

Right where the kitchen island was, a panel opens up to reveal a hologram of a bunch of articles of clothing, all of which has been adjusted to Barnes' size- or an approximate at least, since there's some that's labeled X or XL.

"Barnes? You got anything you want to do right now or...?"

You gestured to the hologram in front of you.

His face contorts a little, not too noticeable at a quick glance. He doesn't look uncomfortable per se, but judging by the downwards curl of his lips, he's definitely not excited to see the hologram.

You flicked your wrist and it disappeared just as quick as it appeared. Strangely enough, his expression doesn't loosen up as his eyes flicker upwards to yours.

"Hey, that's okay. If it's the hologram, that's no biggie, we'll just move over to the, uh, TV in the next room over. C'mon."

You jerked your head and motioned him to follow you. His face laxes and he walks behind you without a word.

_______

You two ended up getting a lot done all things considered.

Barnes seemed pretty bothered by how many clothing choices there are, but when you asked if he wanted you to just curate a list for him, he easily relented. He _was_ hovering over you the whole time, but you weren't too bothered by it as you were too busy browsing for him.

You went from site to site searching for clothes that screamed "The Winter Soldier", but all that was coming up was clothes in fifty shades of black and with no pizzaz. You did pass by a few Avengers-related merch (especially yours), but he said nothing when you added two or three into your cart, so he probably doesn't care. You did show him a lot of clothes that you thought would fit him, and he nodded to pretty much all of them.

By the time you were done looking for clothes, the doorbell had rung.

_("That was quick," you reminisced. DAHLIA was quick to respond._

_"It came from a nearby Walmart."_

_"Huh.")_

Barnes' head jerked as his eyes were trained on the entrance door. You patted his arm, and his eyes glance at you.

"Relax, it's just the food. DAHLIA ordered some groceries earlier."

You stood up to go answer the door, and Barnes followed suit. You raised an eyebrow at him, but he doesn't really seem like he's gonna back down anytime soon.

"You know... You can follow behind, but you're gonna have to be in the shadows or something 'cuz, you know... Just- if someone's still at the door, don't let them see you okay?"

He nods, almost mechanically so, and you turned around and walked to the entrance door.

Opening the door, you were greeted with a few big boxes. You raised an eyebrow and glanced out through the door; there are no cars nearby, and DAHLIA whispers in your ear that the clearing's safe- not a single life signature anywhere.

"Barnes, the coast's clear," you called out, already reaching down to grab one of the boxes. You grunt, adjusting your grip before you lifted and turned around.

Barnes, having already popped out of whatever dark corner he was in, is already a few feet behind you.

"Hey, you don't mind helping me bring in those boxes, will you?"

You were already walking past him, but you barely caught the briefest flash of furrowed eyebrows before you saw him walk over to the door. You mentally shrugged, but placed the box in the kitchen and went back over to the door to get the other one.

By the time you were done setting down the box, Barnes had already closed the door and was standing under the arch connecting the kitchen to the main hallway.

You motioned him over, and he complied.

"What is inside?"

You're almost proud that you didn't jump. He doesn't talk much, but when he does it always startles you.

"Groceries, but I don't know what specifically. DAHLIA chose all of it. And by the looks of it, she chose a _lot_. So. You're gonna help me unpack and we'll probably- well, _I'll_ probably make some food. You can help if you want."

Your back was turned to him, and you started unloading the boxes and their contents. Barnes doesn't move for a hot moment, but he squats down next to you and starts unwrapping the smaller boxes that were inside it.

"You don't mind if I put on some music, right?"

You glanced at him.

"I... don't. Mind," he mumbles, tentatively glancing back at you. You gave him a brief thumbs up and turned your attention back to

"DAHLIA, play something chill. Low volume."

_______

Pretty much, the whole day consisted of unpacking all of the groceries that had been delivered. You ended up pausing, having gotten tired of being awake without food in your stomach, and made some food for the two of you.

You tried conversing with him, trying to get him to at least feel more comfortable, and it... kinda worked. There are a few touchy subjects that he doesn't really seem to like talking about_ (he doesn't really vocalize his discomfort, but his flinches, no matter how minute they were, spoke louder than words)._ HYDRA, obviously. Anything revolving the Avengers put him off as well, among other things.

Really, most of the eating consisted of small talk and eating noises, but at least some of the tension in his shoulders had lessened by the time that you two needed to get back to unpacking. Hell, by the time _that_ was done, Barnes' clothes had arrived.

_(Oh, the benefits of being insanely rich. Say it with me kids: Thank you, Tony!)_

You're usually a little apprehensive about buying clothes online, but color you surprised when not only did all of them fit; Barnes didn't have a single problem with any of them.

"You like 'em?"

You whistled when Barnes came out of his bathroom, now back in your clothes that you had given him originally. He tried all of them on, and you ended up buying him so many clothes that a lot of time had passed by the time he was done. You just sat on his bed, slowly collecting all of the clothes and ripping off the tags, damned if he didn't like one of them; you'll just take it instead.

"They're adequate," he nodded. In his hand were the folded clothes (A camo tee and dark sweatpants), and he set them onto his bed with the other folded clothes.

"Did any of 'em uncomfortable? Too tight, any of the fabric feels wrong...?"

You left the question open-ended as you helped him dump it into a laundry bin. He doesn't respond right away as if he didn't hear you. His eyes flicker over to yours.

"... No. They- I..." the muscle under his eye spasms, "I liked them..."

You grinned, "Glad to hear that, guess we got lucky that none of these was a dud, huh?"

The ghost of a smile that was on his lips appeared briefly, but it was gone just as fast as it had appeared.

Really, that had basically been the peak of the day before things had started to mellow out a little bit. But that was okay, you took whatever it was that Barnes gave, and if it was just the smallest smile you've ever seen on a man, then so be it.

Afterward, the day somehow managed to blend together and pass along like an exhale. Not much happened, since you couldn't really- well, _offer_ anything that could scientifically and medically help him. So you opted to just- try to get him up to date as much as possible.

Honestly, by the time that you had gotten through the first three decades (starting when he was born), it was already pretty late into the night.

_(He had a lot of questions, and you really didn't blame him. Hell, most of the more personal information really came from DAHLIA, because as much as you sympathized with the man, you really didn't care to learn about his whole entire biography._

_But, at least you answered most of the history related questions. If you had to go through a few history college classes back when you were in college, then you'll be damned if you didn't at least make an effort to learn and internalize them.)_

Barnes didn't really show any signs of exhaustion if the casual leg bouncing wasn't enough, but you sure were pooped.

_(What? Unlike your dad (and most of the Avengers) you actually had a normal internal clock. For the most part, anyway.)  
_

"Well, as much as I liked talking about prehistoric times," you sounded sarcastic, but you actually did like it, "I gotta sleep, I don't run on super-soldier energy like you do bub."

You stood up, stretched, and saw that Barnes was now standing up as well. 

"Should I...?"

Raising an eyebrow, you huffed in good nature, "Go to sleep? Yeah, probably. We're not done with the History101 crash course, and we'll probably be talking about other things tomorrow as well," especially about the fact that you're not gonna be at the safe house often soon, "so we both need the energy for that. So, go clean up and get some Z's, yeah?"

"Oh."

He looked a little lost but followed you back into your shared hallway. Stopping in your doorway, you turned your head to glance at Barnes.

"Good night, Barnes," you nodded, not waiting for a response as you headed into your room. It was quiet and almost inaudible, but you still heard it with your ears before you had closed the door shut.

"... Good night."

You stood in your room, a sudden wave of both exhaustion and dread flooding your body. You shook it off though; it was just the nervous jitters hitting you at an inopportune time.

But really, you trusted your guts almost as much as you trusted Tony.

So as you brushed your teeth and did your business in the bathroom, you tried to quell the anxiety that was building up in your chest.

"DAHLIA, keep an eye on him."

"Gotcha, doll."

You sighed, dropped onto your bed, and hoped that whatever it was that might happen, you'd be prepared for it.

_______

And lo and behold, it didn't even have to be the next morning before shit all hit the fan when DAHLIA wakes you up in the middle of the night_ (3 A.M., to be specific)._

"-oll, wake up! Barnes is having a panic attack!"

It takes half a second to process the fear in DAHLIA's voice. It takes another to process her words.

Fuck.

Scrambling immediately out the bed, you thanked whatever higher being there is that you were sleeping with at least some sweatpants on as you booked it straight to your door and right through Barnes'.

_(Maybe you should have joined the football team, because that would have been one wicked tackle. Ha, yeah right, you know nothing about football.)_

The lights were on, most likely DAHLIA's doing, and his bedsheets were clearly mussed up. He's nowhere to be seen, so your eyes jump to the joined bathroom door, and lo and behold, there was light bleeding through the cracks.

You quickly approached the door and opened it, throwing away the worry that he might have been absolutely naked.

The good news was that he wasn't nude.

The bad news was that he was hunched over on the ground, right in front of the bathroom counter, and he's gripping his head so tightly you would have thought his skull would have caved in.

Terror shoots down your spine like a lightning bolt, and you immediately rushed to the curled over Barnes, adrenaline rushing through you as a million thoughts ran through your head.

"Barnes!"

He doesn't appear to hear you, groaning and panting as he further curled in on himself. His muscles spasm, hard, and you're at a loss at what to do. He's sickly pale, and the sheen on his skin makes you want to vomit. His panting is shallow, and if you weren't sure if the glint that shone in your eyes was the reflection off of the marble floors or a puddle of saliva coming from Barnes.

You're not sure if touching him right now is a good thing, but you'll be damned if he wasn't your responsibility now. You reach out to him, wrapping one arm around his hunched back and the other trying to pry at his wrists.

_(Would you have touched him, if you didn't have the reassurance that DAHLIA has your back?)_

_(Shut up.)_

Maybe you were tensing up for him to go all "Winter Soldier" mode on you, but he's the one that tenses, even more, when you touched him. Thankfully, he doesn't resist your pull as his arm is limp the moment you tried to pull it back, but it doesn't change the fact that he's shaking, badly, and your mind is frozen in limbo.

"DAHLIA, what-"

You're at a loss for words, but DAHLIA, sweet DAHLIA already knows what you were about to ask.

"Sergeant Barnes was displaying elevated levels of anxiety, however, it did not seem to warrant any mentions. I thought-"

She cuts herself off, almost as if she was worried that she had made a wrong call. You swallowed, knowing that despite being a baby A.I., she's never done wrong by you- both in the future and now.

"You thought what?"

You try to rub Barnes' back as if he was a dog that had needed soothing. He groans, but you're not sure if you should interpret that as a hurt groan or a relieved one. You paused and moved your hand away, hovering it just inches away from his back, and his breath hitches.

Your hand dropped onto his back once again, and you could feel the muscles on his muscles spasm a little; his whimpers aren't as loud and painful_ (though, they're still more than worrying)._

So, on the very small bright side, back rubs don't seem to be hurting him either. It's a small win, but a win for sure.

"You- my visuals were clear in the conclusion that you saw it. His discomfort. Your body language and expression acknowledged it but you refrained from addressing it. I- acted under the assumption that it was all under control..."

Something in your mind pauses for a pregnant second before your eyes widened.

"_What?_"

DAHLIA doesn't even get the chance to reply as Barnes jerks his hands away from yours and pulls at his scalp again. You lurched forward.

"Hey! No!"

You bit back a growl as you grabbed his wrists once again. You yank them back down to his sides as his body jolts, a sob ripping through him. You placed a hand on his chest and tried to boost him back up so he'll have his back against the bathtub that's behind him.

He offers little to no resistance as his back makes contact with the bathtub, but he's slumped into himself. He pulls his knees forward and curls his head into them. For a super-soldier, it's almost cute how hard he's trying to take up as little space as possible if it weren't for the fact that your heart was absolutely _breaking_ at the sight of him.

"Oh, Barnes..."

In shuddered breaths, he mumbles something incoherent.

"...-an't, I- I- I-.... -can't..."

He shakes his head, jolting as if someone had shocked him. You rubbed his arm, glancing down at what you can now confirm to be a puddle of saliva, and then over to the trash can right next to the toilet. You're not too sure if you should get it just in case he decides to vomit, but you're ready to lunge for it the moment Barnes shows any signs of gagging.

"DAHLIA," you spoke at a lower volume, "what- when was he, um, uncomfortable."

"Two nights ago, roughly 22:00, when you told Sargeant Barnes that he was his own free man. Yesterday morning, 08:00, when you asked if he wanted to do anything prior to browsing the available clothing catalog. Right after, he was also discomforted by the catalog, before you offered to buy clothes for him. At-"

"That's- that's enough," you breathlessly muttered. DAHLIA doesn't say anything else, but the air has suddenly become heavier than you remembered.

Your head was almost dizzy with not only how many instances Barnes had been anxious in such a short time, but also at how you remembered each and every instance with startling clarity.

Barnes was anxious at the idea of freedom, but you put it off and opted to just give him a nickel tour of the house.

Barnes was anxious when you asked if he wanted to do anything before looking at clothes, but looked too relieved when you brushed over it.

Barnes was anxious at the idea of shopping for fucking _clothes_ but was okay after you took over for him.

The taste of stomach acid burned your tongue, as yesterday's dinner threaten to rise at the implication of all of this.

"DAHLIA," you mumbled, "the- the rest of those instances- do they..."

You trained your eyes on Barnes.

"Do they all- follow the same... The same- pattern?"

DAHLIA was always in tune with you, even after the time jump.

"... Yes," she lamented.

"God..."

Now, you're not sure who that trash can would be really for; you or Barnes.

"Barnes..."

You murmured quietly. He flinches, and his shaking hasn't gotten any better.

"What- what was it? Was it- was it all too much? God, I'm so sorry, it probably was, wasn't it? I should have- fuck, I should have taken it more slowly, I-"

Barnes shakes his head, stopping you in your rambling. You blinked rapidly.

"Then- was it..." you paused, "... Was it the choices?"

It's almost expected that he doesn't answer you straight away, but he nodded anyway.

"I... It was- it was too much- I couldn't- I don't know- I-"

His breath shuddered with each word as if it hurt him to just even speak right now. You shushed him, ignoring the intrusive thought that it was akin to shushing an animal.

"Hey, hey, it's- it's okay. You'll be okay."

It's not much, what you're saying to him, and it's no surprise that they didn't do much anyway.

Honestly, you didn't know what to say at this point. There didn't even seem to be any phrasing in the known English language that would be able to comfort a man with as much baggage on his shoulders as Barnes, and briefly, just briefly, you wished that you were literally anywhere in the world, _but here_.

You tried thinking about anything that came from your (albeit limited) interactions with him between the past days that would help ground him, before something jolts you from deep within.

_("What are my mission parameters," Barnes asked from behind you.  
_

_You paused._

_"Mission parameters?")_

You didn't even realize that you had said that out loud, but Barnes had tensed up even more before you could even take it back. He held his breath, audibly swallowing.

_("You don't need mission parameters, Barnes. You're your own free man. You can- can make decisions on your own. You don't need me to tell you what you need to do.")_

_("I... Don't understand...")_

You spoke on impulse.

"You... You _need_ them, don't you? Mission parameters."

Immediately, you regretted even speaking up just as those words left your mouth.

While every fiber in your being hoped that it wasn't true, there was a small inkling in your head that already knew the answer to your question. It was the only thing that was barely even logical enough to make sense.

His apprehension of making a choice.

How uncomfortable in his own skin he always appeared, despite it even being just a few days.

How relieved he always looks, when the choice was already _made_ for him.

His body tenses underneath your hand, but it's the slight bob of his head that makes your stomach drop. You thought- _what a fool you were_\- you thought he'd be okay without being ordered around, but that was nothing but wishful thinking.

_(What was the saying? It's hard to teach an old dog a new trick, was it?)_

_(Yeah.)_

Looking at how only a few days of what you had originally thought was Barnes' newfound freedom turned out to be much more of a nightmare for Barnes, it might just be better for the both of you to push aside your comfortability and start making an honest-to-God investment into Barnes' recovery, even if that means that you had to take a step backward.

A very, very risky step backward.

It was a shot in the dark, but it was the only thing that you could place your bets on for now.

You just hoped that your aim wouldn't fail you now.

"Okay, well... How about this, Barnes, here's your main- your main mission, okay? Become a free man. Hey, no, look at me," you swiveled his head so he could look at you. His eyes were panicked, crazed, and irredeemably _sad_, but you had to make sure nothing crossed through your face so he'd know that everything will be okay. Your grip on both sides of his face was firm as you pleaded with him.

"Your only 'mission' right now? Breathe," ironically, his breath hitched, "If not for your own sake, then for mine."

You swallowed, heart stuttering as you looked into his glassy eyes.

"Please," you let your desperate prayer lingered in the air.

Maybe it was being given a task to accomplish after days of trying to figure out what to do with his supposed new "freedom", or it was how non-labor intensive and just... simple, his new mission parameter was, but it was almost instantaneous how all of the tension in his body dissipated into thin air.

Witnessing the moment of mercy upon grief through Barnes, no matter how brief or temporary it may be, was almost cathartic.

Almost.

_(Perhaps you shouldn't be looking for absolution vicariously. But you were never really a good person, were you?)_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I've read a lot of WinterIron fics. While I have read a lot of interpretations about how Barnes would have reacted when he was freshly freed from HYDRA, this is how I choose to interpret it- one that would best fit the story for now. Next chapter, since I couldn't fit it in this chapter, is a special, but it is very much important and related to the story, and Barnes as a character. If you're familiar with some WinterIron tropes, this won't be too foreign of an idea. Not too sure about other ships/ stories, but. Ah, I'm rambling. Anyways, see you next year lol.
> 
> Anyways, here's your token summary: Barnes is awake and very confused. You're trying your best to help him. You order food and clothes. Barnes has a panic attack, and you're lead to a dreadful realization.


	15. END

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Discontinuing this story- sorry folks!

**I am discontinuing my Restart series because I've simply lost creative juices for it. That's it, no elaborate or other reason. Anyways, I didn't want to just end it on the last chapter, and as someone who loves to overshare (especially if it's unsolicited), I thought some might like to see what drafts I had in plan, going chapter by chapter.**

**It goes up to Ch. 20 with additional bonus chapters, and chapters where I wasn't sure where they were going to be placed in the timeline.**

**If you have any comments, let me know! I'd love to read them :)**

**Here goes! Warning: very long, since the formatting is weird! The reader will be referred to as (Name) and "you", as in the story.**

**Right after Ch. 12 (Circumvention), are 2 special chapters (High Caliber Bullet) & (America's Sweethearts).**

**________________________________________________________________________________**

**(High Caliber Bullet)'s basic plot was that Barnes, now # amount of weeks since the last chapter, has gained some freedoms and can now go out and about with either (Name) or DAHLIA for supervision (via his phone, and through the cameras everywhere).**

**In this particular chapter, he basically goes out for a typical grocery run with DAHLIA "accompanying" him, since before, he remembers (Name) telling him that "I won't always be there with you". But something bad happens! Wooo! (Maybe an attempted robbery, I didn't have the details sorted out yet.)**

**Either way, DAHLIA loses contact with him, and she tries to contact you ASAP, but it takes a little while since your dumbass was asleep the whole time! Wow! The suit had to manually power on and shake you awake.**

**Anyways, the only thing I had "written down" after that was that, after a failed search attempt for James, you go back home and are greeted with a surprise... "Kabedon"? Or, you're pinned to the walls by James... Or, rather, the Winter Soldier!**

**You're not sure what's going on, only that, "Wow, Barnes is acting weird. Why is he suddenly Russian? Wh- Okay, wow, he's suddenly gotten a lot closer. Now, wait a fuckin' minute-!"**

**Either way, you and James make a discovery of a second personality living inside his body- the Soldier! Or Winter, I'm still unsure which I would have gone for. If you're familiar with certain WinterIron tropes, this is one of them. Anyways, that's the end of that chapter, or what I had written so far, anyway.**

**This chapter is really important to the canon of Restart since it establishes Soldier, but it didn't fit into my initial plans of 10 chapters an arc, so. That's why it's a "special" chapter.**

**________________________________________________________________________________**

**The next "special" chapter after that was (America's Sweethearts). I had written 2 "chunks" of text for this chapter. The main plot is, basically, you and Steve spent a platonic (promise!) Valentine's Day together. Hence the title. Cute, right? This was referenced in Ch. 9 (Revelation) during Future! Steve's reminiscing.**

**Anyways, below the next text is what I had written for that chapter. It will be in normal text.**

**No other thoughts on that, so let's move on.**

"You live like this?"

In his defense, Steve's apartment wasn't messy in the slightest. In fact, it was the other way around- everything was too clean, too pristine, too detached. The only saving grace he's getting from standing in the middle of his apartment is the fact that compared to the chilly Brooklyn weather, it was almost obnoxiously warm in his apartment.

Not only did he have the heater going on, but he had another separate, portable heater blasting hot air in the corner.

(Sometimes, and only sometimes, Steve will stand in front of the heater and slowly spin around like a rotisserie chicken. The heat feels good, in his defense.)

The heat was something that you, thankfully, didn't comment on as you shed your jacket and slung it around the coat hanger near the door. You're wearing an over-sized tee- Thor's tee, he absentmindedly notes- and some sweats, both like and unlike the (Name) he often sees.

(It's not uncommon for Steve to glance at a newspaper or TV still shot and see you with your hair slicked back and dressed head to toe in a suit so expensive he's confident it costs at least a few years' worths of a typical New Yorker's rent.

Neither is uncommon to see you on the front cover of Men's Magazine, wearing a simple tee that shouldn't look that good on you but still does and posing confidently for the camera.

But despite all that, all of the clearly _flattering _outfits you could possibly wear at the tips of your fingers, often Steve will see you wear a disparagingly obnoxious, dirty shirt, and an old pair of sweats as your go-to outfit.)

(No, he will never admit that he really likes seeing you like that. Even with the mysterious smudged substance often found on the bottom of your sweats, as if you had swing danced in mud and crude oil.)

Regardless, while he often questions your private life fashion choices (and this is coming from a man who willingly wears khakis), he at least knows why you're wearing what you are, given the fact that he's also dressed in an overused tee and some joggers.

"What's wrong with my apartment? Not up to par with your penthouse standards?" Steve jests.

"Steve. Please." You threw him an unimpressed glare, much to Steve's never-ending amusement.

You glanced back to the inside of the apartment and squinted at it with what Steve could only describe as a rich man's scrutinizing gaze, before shrugging nonchalantly. You strolled into his apartment with a confidence Steve can still never get used to, one that reminds him so much of Tony's, and even Howard on his bad days.

(He understands why Tony doesn't like it when he brings Howard up, as he belatedly realizes that Howard didn't die the same man he knew him as, but he never understood why you've suddenly gotten bitter about Howard as well.)

He follows you into the hallway, and if it weren't for the fact that this was his apartment, he would've looked like a lost puppy following its new owner.

His apartment's not really that big, so it doesn't take long before you've both reached the living room. A simple TV, simple couch, simple table. Nothing really exciting in his living room, but it serves its purposes, in Steve's opinion.

**(This is the end of that chunk. Next is where I picked up in writing. Short time skip, they both fall asleep and now Steve's waking up.)**

It was the change in the smell that woke him up.

It's always the scent of fresh linen that greeted him early in the morning, something that's become so attuned to his everyday life. So when, instead, popcorn and sweets drifts his way, for a brief second his heart rate jumps.

'What?', his mind asks as he opens his eyes, bleary but cautious.

'Oh,' his mind responds back at him when his eyes drift down to your sleeping form laying splayed right on top of him, body glued to his side. You're mainly hogging the blanket, but he doesn't really mind as he runs hot 24/7.

'_Oh_', his mind repeats softly, as something deep unfurls from his stomach and rises to his throat, clenching up and unable to say anything as his eyes fixate themselves on your steady breathing. Your lips are too close to his neck, each breath too warm, even for him. His skin burns where it meets yours, and absently he thinks, 'this is nice'.

'Yeah,' he lifts his hand to brush away a strand of hair away from your eyes, 'This is nice.'

Steve blearily throws a glance at the clock on his nightstand. 4 more minutes until he'd typically wake up and start his day with a morning jog.

'No,' his body protests.

'Okay,' his mind agrees without a fight.

He carefully reaches over and presses the silence button on his alarm. Above him, a breathy exhale escapes your lips at the sudden movement, and if possible, you curl closer to him than you were before. He pauses, unsure if you're going to wake up or not, but relax when he realizes that you're still in a deep slumber.

**(Another break. Next sentence was supposed to be the final sentence of the chapter.)**

In the end, neither of you commented about how Steve had missed his daily morning run as his limbs were straddled in between yours.

**________________________________________________________________________________**

**Ch. 13 (Upheaval) and 14 (Airlocked) are short in terms of drafting, so I'll combine them into one section here. Ch. 13 (Upheaval) was about taking down SHIELDRA in a better manner than the mess that was CA:TWS. And (Name) also forces Steve and Natasha to fess up immediately about Tony's parent's murderer. ((Name) threatens them.)**

**As for Ch. 14 (Airlocked), it's pretty much a filler chapter of sorts. (Name) graduates, there's now an official class-action lawsuit against Ross, also now keeping an eye on Baron Zemo, and we see some progression on Barne's therapy session. Not much, but some.**

**I really was not looking forward to these two chapters, as I knew they were gonna be boring as hell.**

**________________________________________________________________________________**

**Ch. 15 (Spiralling) has actual written chunks. It's basically about the early prevention of Ultron. The Avengers go to a Sokovian HYDRA base, take out baddies, and the Super Twins get captured first- wow! But not before Wanda does... something to (Name), causing you to hallucinate and lose contact with the team- uh oh!**

**But don't worry! You get run over by a car. Lol. Below is what I had written for it, sans minor text.**

A/N: In Ch. 7 (Summer), there was a 'dream-sequence' that happened where (Name) was on Titan with Tony, Peter, Stephen, and the GOTG. I've now decided that in canon, (Name) was not on Titan- instead, you were on Earth instead during IW helping at Wakanda. Just a brief plot-hole wrap-up; let's imply that (Name) had watched video footage of the fight at Titan via Tony's suit afterward, and that's where the nightmare came from. Okay bye.

**(VERY abrupt start into the story, not meant to be the start of the chapter in the final draft, just where I wanted to start writing. Intro to Wanda.)**

You jerked your head, catching a glimpse of brunette hair in the corner of your eyes. You swung your gauntlet instinctively and made instant contact with whatever was next to you. Flutters of red wisps followed your eyes, and you instantly knew what just happened as a body dropped next to you.

You grunted and leaned onto the nearest wall, watching the girl's limp body with caution. Your shoulder plate lifted, and a tranquilizing dart connected to her thigh.

Just in case.

"Guys, I- I've been- ugh..." You wanted to vomit, the pounding in your head worsening with each millisecond that passes. Already, your surroundings distort you with each blink, walls melting and the floor sinking in on itself. "I've been- com-," you swallowed back your bile, "-compromised... Sending- location... Ergh..."

You didn't even have enough time to hear a response before the whole world around you shifted. You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to calm your thundering heartbeat. The pounding got worse as the armor around you dissipated into nothing but the under-suit you were wearing. Before, where there were the shouting and gunshots, is now replaced with an eerie silence filled with just your laborious breathing.

You didn't know the full extent of what visions you were about to see, but you needed to remember that none of this is real. Scientifically, that was your only safe haven from possibly losing your mind for what's about to come. And it was worse because you had no idea what visions you'd see. Would you see Thanos? The Chitauri, just like your father once had? Or would it be something more close to home; the bunker? Tony's dead body, splayed with vomit around him, frostbitten to the touch and still like a marbled statue?

Ready to go up and arms at whatever it was you're about to see, you cautiously opened your eyes.

**(Line break, there's meant to be an "oh shit" line, like "Only, you were met with eyes far too similar to yours." but I still didn't know what I wanted to do for the hallucination sequence. Maybe meeting an older you, a younger you, or your dream life without the Avengers or meta-humans.)**

**(Below is an abrupt shift in the story; same general setting, but outside POV! What I had was dialogue only, alternating between people in bold, as a POV switch.)**

**(Name) **"Guys, I- I've been- ugh... I've been- com-compromised... Sending- location... Ergh..."

**(Steve) **"Apex, do you copy? (Name)!"

**(Steve) **"Shit, (Name) isn't answering! Tony!"

**(Tony) **"Got his location, he's inside the base. J.A.R.V.I.S., what's his status?"

**(J.A.R.V.I.S.) **"I'm sorry, Sir, but it appears that I am not in contact with his suit."

**(Tony) **"Wha- the hell do you mean you're not in contact?!"

**(****J.A.R.V.I.S.) **"I cannot connect to his suit; it appears that Young Sir has somehow deprogrammed me from his suit."

**(Tony) **"Wha-!"

**(****J.A.R.V.I.S.) **"However, it seems as if there is an A.I. present nonetheless. Though..."

**(****J.A.R.V.I.S.) **"I do not recognize the code. Would you like me to attempt at forming a mode of communication?"

**(Tony) **"Yeah, just- God, make sure (Name)'s okay, please."

**(****J.A.R.V.I.S.) **"On it."

**(****J.A.R.V.I.S.) **"Establishing a connection."

**(DAHLIA) **"Mister Stark?"

**(Tony) **"Wha- I'm sorry- who are you?"

**(DAHLIA), ignoring Tony, **"An enhanced got to (Name). The operative is down, but (Name)'s experiencing hallucinations. I can't get through to him- you need to get to him, now. I fear he may hurt himself more than he already has."

**(DAHLIA) **"And if I may be privy to a request?"

**(Tony) **"What?"

**(DAHLIA) **"Don't bring Rogers." **(I don't remember why I wrote this bit.)**

**(Steve) **"Any updates on (Name)?"

**(Tony) **"Yep, and by the looks of it," there was a loud boom coming from the base, and as Tony looked up to see an all too familiar suit fly out of the building. Or, rather, flying was an interesting way to put it- it was more of a free-falling more than anything else.

**(Steve) **"What was that?"

**(Tony) **"_That _was (Name), and he's not havin' a great time I'll tell you that."

His voice was light and joking, but he'd be lying if he didn't say that his heart wasn't in his throat by the sight of you flying out of the building and falling back into the forests.

**(Line break, another POV switch)**

Steve sprinted towards the loud boom, movements quick and calculated, but mind racing a thousand miles an hour. He saw a red and gold glint fly up above him, zipping in and out between trees gracefully.

**(Line break, but no switch, same place. Another story POV shift, sort of. Steve makes contact with (Name), or so he thinks.)**

"(Name)? Hey, do you copy?"

The suit was eerily silent, glowing eyes that once gave comfort to the soldier now bringing nothing but an awful, gripping dread; one that he'd get when there were Nazi soldiers nearby, but he couldn't tell where even with his enhanced senses. The suit gave away nothing that usually screamed out everything that was you- no head swaying, no restless and constantly shifting feet, only a stillness that looked so unnatural. Almost as if there was no one in there.

"(Name)?"

There was no response from you.

The hairs on Steve's neck stood up, everything in his system suddenly screaming to get out of there, run, leave, get away from the suit, but he ignored it as he took a cautious step forward.

Again, you didn't seem to react.

Then, the suit took a step forward.

Then another one.

And another one.

"(Name)-"

Before he could say anything more, the suit lunged forward. Only for a moment could Steve react, but even he wasn't as fast as you could be when you're in the suit. He raised his shield, ready to be shot at, but only the sound of harsh metal on metal makes it to his ears. By the sounds of it, it sounded like Tony had managed to land a direct hit on you, from wherever position he was at. Cautiously, Steve lowers his shield to look.

But instead of the familiar red and gold suit of armor greeting him, it's the sight of two (color) suits wrestling on the ground with each other that manages to sucker-punch all air from his lungs.

**(Basically, you went bat shit insane and got out of the older suit, then prematurely activating the nano suit instead, in a fit of panicked hallucination. The older suit, now operating by DAHLIA, was trying to protect Steve from being ambushed by (Name), and now they're wrestling.)**

**(Another big break, but I think I had a hallucination sequence from (Name)'s POV planned here. Not sure what I was gonna do here since I planned this like, maybe in 2018, early 2019. It's... 2021 now...)**

"-(Name)!"

Your eyes widened as the world around you suddenly shifts out of existence, and instead, you're outside in the dim, snowy alps once again. Someone called out to you, you don't know who, but there's a light in the corner of your eyes that's so goddamn bright. You turn your head in the direction of the light, and amidst all of the yelling and gunshots, DAHLIA's cool, chilling voice rings the loudest in your ear.

"Aborting protoc-"

And then the world turned black.

**________________________________________________________________________________**

**Ch. 16 (Enflamed) also has written text. Basically, you're recovering from being caught slipping by a car, the team is now aware of certain secrets you've been keeping behind their backs, and you realize that you have to get back to Barnes to let him know you're okay.**

**This chapter was meant to be focused on the twins, but I guess I forgot that as I was "writing" it. Basically, the gist was that their parent's deaths weren't by officially licensed Stark tech (maybe even a counterfeit since Stark weapons are _the best_, and don't malfunction as it did in WandaVision ep. 8). Maybe HYDRA was the one that did it in order to recruit more people. Or something like that. Basically, Tony wasn't the one who authorized those weapons to be sold and used there, but it was Stane. Either way, they get their own healthy moment to mourn and lament over it all.**

**Here's the text below. Italics for a dream sequence, since you were unconscious/ in a coma from being bOnked on by a car.**

_"Hey, sweetheart."_

_You smile, turning around to face the voice only to be greeted with lips on yours. You chuckle, amused that this was the first thing you'd be greeted with, but lean into the kiss anyways as you wrapped your fingers around their cheek._

_They pull back first, but their eyes are warm as they smile, lingering in the space between the two of you. Where their hands laid on your hips, your skin burned bright hot, but you paid no mind to it._

**(There's supposed to be more, maybe foreshadowing, but I stopped here in terms of the dream sequence. Jump cut to another POV, but you're waking up!)**

**(Name) **"Hnng..."

**(Steve) **"Stay down! You're in no condition to move at all, just- just rest, okay? The doctors- and- your dad are coming."

**(Steve) **"How're you feeling? You want some water?"

You tried to turn your head to look at the blonde but hissed suddenly.

**(Name) **"S'nnof'a' b'ch..." **(Son of a bitch.)**

Steve helped you settle back onto your pillow- which even he'll admit doesn't look like the most comfortable setting in the world.

"Language, (Name)..."

He reprimanded, but there's no heat in his words as he's just so _thankful_ that you're even capable of forming any words, no matter how profane they may be.

Beside him, Clint laughs a bit too loud for comfort. Steve wants to tell him to be quiet, as he's sure you're sensitive to noise right now, but God he can't blame the archer for his overwhelming relief.

Lord knows Clint wasn't the only one to stress over their youngest Avenger.

"First words after a damn coma, and it's '_son of a bitch'!_ I told you he's a fighter!"

"Of course he is, he's a Stark after all."

All eyes turn to see the billionaire and assassin walk into the room. They look clean and pristine as always, but by the slight sheen of sweat on both of them, Steve knew they rushed here as soon as word spread that you were awake.

**(Natasha) **"Tooting your own horn a little much there?"

Natasha's smile betrays her words as she looks fondly from the senior Stark to the junior. Even the ironclad wall she has up 24/7 has a soft spot for the team's junior member.

_(_Especially _for the junior member, but you didn't hear that from Steve.)_

**(Tony) **"It's both of our horns, excuse you."

Tony turns his attention to you and places a gentle hand on your shoulder.

"You sure took a hit back there, champ."

"Mmm... 'm feel like a... Nn... A damn Make A W'sh kid...", **(Mm, am feeling like a damn Make A Wish kid...)** your eyes, though blown out from still being drugged up, wandered across each Avenger. You frowned, then smirked- well, as best as you could, anyways.

"Where's th' Hul'k? T'or?" **(Where's the Hulk? Thor? (As a joke, since usually the whole gang visits, but they're missing))**

"Relax junior, you're not that special. We can only afford so many Avengers to visit you."

Despite his harsh words, Tony places a kiss right on your forehead. Your eyes flutter closed, lashes delicately batting as Tony leans away.

**(Big block of nothing, there were supposed to be more text here, more dialogue or something. Same setting!)**

**(Tony) **"So. We need to talk about what happened back there. Y'know. The brand-smackin' new A.I. that's in your suit- she's been awfully quiet. _Oh, _and the- lord, the thing's a work of _art-_ the- what is it? Nanite suit? That's in a collar- _a collar? _I mean, I'm not one to judge questionable fashion statements, but-"

**(Steve, or someone else) **"Tony."

**(Tony) **"Right- but, we _are_ going to talk about all that, okay?"

"L'ter, ple's? Am tir'd..." **(Later, please? Am tired.)**

"An' b'sides, chok'r's fun..." **(And besides, chokers are fun.)**

**(Line break, basically, you remember you have a certain Winter Soldier that's been sitting at home without any word from you.)**

’Oh fuck.’

**(Big line break, basically, you get discharged from the hospital, and now you visit the safehouse Barnes is in to check up on him.)**

It was eerily quiet when you opened the door to the safe house. You limped into the door, thankful that the ride on the way back, there were no paparazzi to see you leave at all. (Really, Happy should get a raise.) Lord knows how much of a rile that'll get out of the news media.

'Avengers' Golden Boy: Fatally Injured?' or something dumb like that.

You'd love to roll your eyes, but the tension that's coiling up in your gut surpasses the want as you slowly step into the house. It's warm, more so than the slow brewing chill that's been tempering outside. James never liked the cold, but even so, the house was warmer than you remembered. His shoes are still near the doorway, in the exact place that you remembered it to be, so he definitely hasn't gone anywhere.

(Though, the alerts that were on your phone from DAHLIA definitely show that he wanted to.)

For a brief moment, you were concerned that there wasn't enough food; but even then, DAHLIA would still be up, so she could place an online order to refill the fridge at a moment's notice, so it's not like James (even with his super-soldiered appetite) would starve himself here.

You quietly slipped out of your shoes, slowly as to not incur another cramp in your back, and stepped into the hallway barefooted. You glance into each room you pass by, but not a single sign of the soldier was anywhere to be found.

You stopped when you stood in front of one specific lounge room; yours and James' _favorite_ lounge room.

Lurking into the room, you glanced around.

The room looked exactly like how it did days before when you were still conscious. There are a few mugs strewn about. Most empty, conjoined in one area of the table (James' area), but there's one that's filled with your favorite drink. A drink that you don't remember making for yourself.

And it's placed right in front of your favorite chair, too. Something squeezes at your heartstrings as you couldn't help but smile fondly.

It's gone cold, you absently note as you dip a finger into it. Wiping your finger on your pants, you grabbed it and the rest of the empty cups, making a note to place them into the dishwasher when you make it into the kitchen.

"James?"

You called out, but only your voice echoed back. The cups quietly rattled with each step, and it's not long before you make it into the kitchen. It, too, looks the same, but there's a thin layer of dust only a clean freak would notice. The sink is empty and clear of any beads of water. Unused for a little bit, you concluded.

Yeesh.

You placed all of the cups into the dishwasher, which was also dry and empty as well. Sighing, you turned on the machine and jumped out of your skin when you felt a pair of built arms wrap themselves around you tightly.

It only takes a split second for you to realize that, no, this is not some ax murderer that's about to choke the life out of you, it's just James.

James who, apparently, is holding you flush against his chest, fingers curling themselves against your bandaged abdomen. You held back a wince of pain, careful not to make your breathing waver, as James nuzzle his whole head against the crook of your neck.

(Honestly, for someone named the Winter Soldier, he sure is warm because whew, boy-)

"Ja-"

"I thought you were gone."

His name is caught in your throat as James' voice- gritty, deep, _unused_\- rumbles into your skin. You freeze, unsure of what to say to that as you shuddered, suddenly breathless as he mouths at your neck. Your ears turn bright red as he takes that moment to speak up, not once letting up on his fingers ghosting a trail on each muscle on your abdomen.

"You were gone. One second you were in my arms, and the next... The next, DAHLIA's tellin' me you're in a damn coma."

You winced, not sure how to respond to both what he said or the growl that accompanied it. You looked up at the camera that was in a nearby corner and threw it a withering glance, feeling slightly betrayed by DAHLIA for telling James that.

Thankfully (or probably not), James isn't really looking for a response as he continues on.

"Моя звездная пыль (**My stardust**)," Russian slips out, bringing a chill up your spine as bits of Winter spills out from James' fingertips, "The witch got to you, didn't she?"

Goosebumps raised on your skin, and to your silence, James snarled. You can barely feel his teeth graze on your nape, and you really don't know if you should feel embarrassed or something else.

And wow, okay, maybe you should tell James to ease up on the "hug", _because holy shit, his grip's getting tighter and it's starting to actually hurt._

(Ah, he might tear the stitches.)

"_HYDRA сукa...! Я убью ее...!" **(HYDRA bitch...! I'll kill her...!)**_

You huffed, still red in the face as he hasn't even nudged away from letting you go. You patted his forearm, signaling for him to loosen up his grip, and to his credit, he does. Barely, but it was still something.

"I dunno what ya' just said in Russian, but I know what Hydra сукa means. No cussing in Russian, only in English."

He mumbles something incoherent into your shoulder, rubbing circles into your stomach with a tantalizingly slow speed. You coughed; in literally any other situation this would be one of the hottest things you've ever experienced, but considering that James was more _Winter_ than James right now, and your stomach is literally _burning in pain_ from the rubbing, you opted to ignore the fact that _you really liked that James was this close _and spoke up.

"Not to alarm you or anything, but uh, if you keep rubbing my stomach like that," your breath hitched, the pain starting to become a little too much, "I'm gonna pass out from the pain," you said, with clenched teeth.

**(End of what I had written down. Anyways, not sure where I was gonna go from here.)**

**________________________________________________________________________________**

**Ch. 17-20 are relatively short in terms of what I had written down.**

**Ch. 17 (Reconditioning) has 3 things typed down:**

  * **integrating the twins, thoughts of integrating bucky**

  * **supreme distrust between you and the twins**

  * **meanwhile maybe thoughts from twins abt you? you're around their age**

**3rd bullet introduces the idea that they might be love interests. Maybe. Shrugs. That chapter would be heavier on the character developments of the twins, both as their own persons and their relationship with you, specifically. They don't like you because you're Tony's son, still some bitter feelings there, and you don't like them because... Well... there's just a lot of bad feelings. They helped kill J.A.R.V.I.S. in your original timeline. Wanda basically fucked off with Vision. She antagonized Tony. (And there is a hypocrisy there since I would've written you to have done the same thing there. (Name) isn't perfect.)**

**You just didn't get along with Pietro since, back when he wasn't dead, you were immature and not yet accustomed to dealing with people who're purposefully frustrating/ teasing/ mocking/ etc. Nothing really personal with him, it's Wanda that you had beef with. But you'll get over it one day.**

**Ch. 18 (Longstanding) is shorter.**

  * **you and james have a talk, and after a year or two being solitary, you agree that he should be in the avengers**

  * **he joins the avengers**

**That's it, that's the chapter.**

**Ch. 19 (Accountability) deals with newer Accords (not a Sokovian one! Just from the proposed need for accountability).**

**It goes better around this time, as basically all of the Avengers agree to it, with their own caveats of course. Steve especially, but of course, he's willing to work with the governments about it this time around. Also, Peter Parker gets introduced, in accordance with the "underaged enhanced/ superheroes" clause, or some bull like that.**

**Ch. 20 (Wakanda) is basically the intro to CA:CW but like, civilized. No bombing since Zemo still has his family. Introduces Wakanda, and T'Challa as a potential love interest. If you're interested in IronPanther, I highly recommend reading the IronPanther Collection by Okyverlo on AO3. It's great and got me a lot of interest in T'Challa as a love interest.**

**________________________________________________________________________________**

**As for official chapters with the plot, that's about it. I wasn't sure what to do afterward.**

**There were some loose ideas I had about what would happen to (Name). Maybe the truth is revealed, that you're actually from the future, and Dr. Strange separates past and future you into two separate bodies. Future! you into your original future body, and past! you into the current body. Past! you still have the same memories and thoughts that future! you had, but with less angst. Future! you is noticeably more depressed and just a bummer. Lol.**

**And after that, 2023! you would go back to the future where you belonged, and Past! you would stay in the present since, duh, that's still Past! you's original timeline. It's a little confusing when I type it down haha.**

**I was thinking maybe 2023! you would pair up with Steve since you realized how burdensome it is to continue to resent someone. Now you understood what Tony meant.**

**And Past! you would definitely pair up with James, but maybe Steve too. A nice lil' polygamous relationship.**

**________________________________________________________________________________**

**Now here's the other, non-official chapters.**

**2 What If's, and 3 Specials, in the order they're listed at the moment.**

**What If (2013 Counterpart) plays with an initial idea I had, where Past! (Name) was actually sent into the future into 2023! (Name)'s body during the prologue. Not sure where I was gonna go with this chapter, but I really wanted to mess with that possibility, and show just how immature and teenager-y Past! you were.**

**What If (Swapped Places) plays with the idea that you and Tony, in the original timeline, had swapped places. You were on Titan with Spiderman, Dr. Strange, and the GOTG, while Tony was on Earth with everyone else. That's all I had planned. Maybe you actually won and managed to get the gauntlet off of Thanos when you realized that Peter Quill was about to go crazy over his ex's death, and you knocked him down in time.**

**Special (Find My Body, Only At The Oak Tree), deals with you and your depression over the reality that you might have to relive the blip again, and aside from the Avengers, you really don't have anyone else and nothing's worth really living for at this point. I actually have a lot written for this one. Not sure if I wanted this to be canon.**

**Trigger warning: suicidal tendencies.**

**(Below is the general idea I had for the plot.)**

**________________________________________________________________________________**

(names) birthdays across the years so far

we see slow mental deterioration of (name) as he aches

we see as we reach closer and closer to the deadline, (name) dreads even thinking about thanos and wants to die before even looking at him, a symbol of their failure

lowkey highkey suicidal

___

The first time you celebrated your 17th birthday was in 2014.

The second time you celebrated your 17th birthday was also in 2014... Obviously.

The first time you celebrated your 17th birthday, the whole tower was flooded with people who you knew and people who you couldn't care to know. It was filled with what little was left of your friend group outside of the Avengers; it was also filled with the rich, the pompous, the irritating of New York.

You got into a yelling match with your dad that night, over something you couldn't even bother to remember, and stormed off into your room, fuming as the party still went on without their birthday boy present.

(It's always like that as if you're replaceable. Surely, you must be; the Avengers can and will, if need be, exist without you.)

The second time you celebrated your 17th birthday, you told your dad you wanted it to be small and personal. Only the Avengers were there, as a few days ago did you spend a pre-birthday celebration with some of your high school 'friends' (which only mainly consisted of playing Smash Bros Brawl in your room and eating an ungodly amount of junk food as you fake laughed along with their shitty jokes.) (Steve promptly made you burn those calories off in training.).

(What Steve doesn't know is that you purposefully ate that much to train with him; otherwise, you had the whole day off the next day.

You didn't want to be alone.)

It was sweet as everyone gave their gifts to you (which you already knew what it was, but said nothing of it), and as everyone got drunk off of the expensive liquor or Asgardian mead, you quietly snuck out of the building and back into the safe house where James was waiting for you.

(He waits, but how much of it is because he has no other choice?

It is not like that, you keep reminding yourself.

Who is to say, other than you?

James never says anything of it, and you start to wonder if he feels as if he has no choice.

As if he feels like he's been made another prisoner, once again.

At what point, what is separating the distinction between you and HYDRA, in his mind?

You're not too keen on finding out the answer anytime soon.)

The whole way there, you thought of nothing in particular.

You quietly celebrated with him too, shared a few slices of cake he made just for you before you quietly said goodnight to him. He kissed you on the cheek, said a simple goodnight, and slipped away into his own bedroom.

Meanwhile, you spent the rest of the night drinking too much alcohol, alone, in the dark of your room, staring at nothing in particular, thinking about nothing in particular.

The next morning, you jokingly wished you had just died last night as you're bent over the toilet emptying your stomach contents.

___

The first time you celebrated your 18th birthday, you spent it outside in another country with your friends.

The second time you celebrated your 18th birthday party, you rented out a bumper kart arena with the Avengers.

The first time you celebrated your 18th birthday, you tried desperately to hang onto the remaining friends you had outside of the Avengers, a chance to feel normal for once. You practically went hiking across Europe and into Asia over the week of your birthday, and by God did you visit so many places. From the Louvre to the casinos in New Deli, you trekked everywhere with your friends and acted as a cash pig for their endeavors under the guise of celebrating your birthday. Least to say, you always got 'accidentally' blackout drunk on multiple occasions, oblivious to their actions.

Later you found out and cut them off instantly without another word. They didn't seem to notice that you stopped talking to them.

It hurt.

Pointless of you to try to maintain that friendship.

So on your next 18th birthday, having long forgone those friendships ages ago, you suggested going bumper karting with the Avengers. Bruce operated as the 'coach' of sorts, but he seemed to have enjoyed it as well.

It was fun, obviously.

It went on for a few hours, as you all had made up mini-games to play along with as they got bored of chasing after each other aimlessly for half an hour. A few games had you pairing up with some of the Avengers; the other had them actually using their skills to try to maim each other.

(Wanda at one point lifted everyone into the air as Pietro zoomed through the rink; though, he did slip and slam into the wall. Everyone laughed, but it was interrupted as Wanda promptly dropped everyone out of shock.

Everyone was too busy in their own shock as well to notice your labored breathes, wild crazed eyes, or how you clawed viciously at your throat at the sight of Wanda's red wisps. Your fingers were tinted a sick vermilion.

Thankfully, the arena was relatively dim, so no one could tell what just happened.)

It was fun. Everyone didn't hold their shoves back, and when things riled up, it turned into who would break a bone first. No one did, but everyone was definitely sore afterward. Of course, the enhanced ones didn't limp as much, but it made your limp nothing out of the ordinary.

(You tried your most damn not to just collapse completely, both exhaustion and pain threatening to snap your spine into little bits and pieces.

You jokingly wished it did.)

Thankfully, during the whole ordeal, no one noticed how you didn't avoid obvious hits, instead opting to just get harshly jostled in your kart and neck snapped haphazardly to the side at the sudden jolt. Or how you 'accidentally' keep forgetting to put on your seat belt or keep your fingers inside the kart.

Or at least, if they noticed, no one said anything as you limped around the tower the next day, bruises marred everywhere on your skin, a sheen of sweat blanketed on your skin throughout the whole day.

___

The first time you celebrated your 19th birthday, you were too swamped with both college and SI to actually... Celebrate.

You didn't even realize it was your birthday. No one did, actually; it took one of your professors to comment on how your name was trending on Twitter to actually get you to realize what the day was.

But even that didn't change your schedule, and as you moved on with your day, so did Twitter and the Avengers.

You never got to celebrate your 19th birthday, too swamped with other things to care.

The second time you celebrated your 19th birthday, you had too much free time in the world.

It ended up being just like your 17th. The Avengers had a little get-together (they remembered this time; what made it so different?) and all of them got drunk wildly off their asses. Once again, you slipped away from the main lounge, and stalked silently, blank-faced, towards a balcony.

You adjusted your collar appropriately and stood there. You stared outside into the bustling busy streets of New York, the city that never sleeps.

(Strange, that it's named that when often times it's the quietest whenever you're there to see it.)

You spend maybe 10 minutes standing there, staring into the oblivion that is New York.

And then, you climbed onto the railings.

Standing there, there was no rush of adrenaline that coursed its way through your veins, nor was there any fear or dread.

Only an overwhelming and crippling exhaustion that made waves through your body. No longer are you in your 19-year-old body, but your 27th. No longer are you in your younger, former self; one that shone brightly above the others, aspiring as both a heroic figure and one that would help pave the way towards a better, peaceful world.

No, instead, your soul feels like it's settled deep into your bones, an aching tire that keeps rocking and rattling at your already fractured, beaten down body, laughing at how pathetic you look.

(You're so tired.

You just wanted to live normally.

You never can, you eventually come to realize on your first 24th birthday.

That thought, now fully realized, would come to permeate it's way deep into your bones.)

All you wanted to do was to just take one step forward, off of the railing that you're so delicately balanced upon, and dive into air headfirst.

Really, all it takes is just one step.

And truly, you've never felt more at peace as your body dropped from the railings, descended quickly towards the streets below you.

What should've been a quick few seconds of a dive felt like an eternity drowning in a bottomless pool. The lights of New York flashed and beamed at you, but it changed rapidly from one to another. Your throat closes, shuttering, and you want so desperately to start screaming.

Only, no one would hear them.

The winds would carry away your screams, rushing a sound of its own that would overpower yours.

You wonder, absently, was this similar to what Rhodey felt that day?

Well.

You'd never really find out, now, will you?

Too late to ask.

(There's no way to get back home.

You can never see Morgan again- the Morgan that called you her big Care Bear, the Morgan that cried and threw a temper tantrum because you forgot to give her a goodnight kiss.

You can never see mom and dad again- while they're still here, it's just not the same. You'll never get to see the same Pepper who was so relieved just to see you alive after the Battle of Wakanda, even if you were practically on your death bed. You'll never get to see the same Tony who you spent hours crying into the shoulder of after the Blip.

You can never see the same Steve, Natasha, Rhodey, anyone, ever again.

Years spent just trying to be better, to help the world, to mend and build any relationships you could, gone.

And even if they weren't?

There's just no way to get back home anymore. Not back to the person you used to be.)

The next day, you got an earful from your parents when photos of your falling body appear all over the internet. All the meanwhile, you're not really listening to them, just staring right back at them.

Odd.

('When did you start looking at me with contempt?', you'd ask one day.

Tony just stares at you, then out the window. In his hand, he's holding a cup of coffee; in yours, water. You've since stopped drinking anything remotely sugary, caffeinated, or alcoholic, though you've never told anyone why.

'When did you start mistaking concern with contempt.', he responded, though it was more of a statement rather than a question.

You stared at him, then followed his gaze out the window.

Neither of you says anything, even as the hours go by in the blink of an eye.)

**(That's all I had written down so far. Not sure where I wanted to go with this afterwards.)**

**________________________________________________________________________________**

**Special (Vapidity, Testament To Absence) deals with future DAHLIA realizing what it means to mourn someone.**

**________________________________________________________________________________**

The house is empty.

It is an irrelevant thought, DAHLIA notes.

Technically speaking, the house has been empty quite often than not; after all, you were a busy man with an equally busy schedule. Being the CEO of SI and a huge contributing factor to the world's rebuilding made it more or less impossible for you to stay at home for long. Though, she also doesn't linger long in the house, either. But she's still there regardless, even if she's also with you on the other side of the planet for diplomatic reasons.

She knows of the emptiness inside this house; it was never an unfamiliar concept.

But with this emptiness, she's never once associated loneliness with it either.

It's a bit better when Virginia occasionally comes around to the house to do some maintenance. She might even bring along little Morgan with her.

_("You keep saying she's a pest, but I know I sure as hell ain't the one that keeps shifting the TV to the kids' channels when she's around," you comment, not even taking your eyes off of the pan. DAHLIA says nothing towards your accusations, instead opting to tell you that you're burning your eggs._

_You aren't, but she says nothing amidst your panic.)_

A few others occasionally visit, too, much to DAHLIA's internal disapproval.

Rogers used to visit every day ever since she first noted the emptiness. His behavior was also peculiar. He'd prowl around the house, pausing here and there at random parts of the house. He'd often just... Stand there, seemingly looking at nothing for a long period, before jolting back and continue what he was doing. She's thankful that he hasn't noted her silence when he's around.

Often Banner would come along too, and he'd be talking quietly with Rogers. As of recently, they've stopped visiting though. Probably because of the recent news **(that (Name) might still be alive, just lost in time)**, DAHLIA almost bitterly notes.

James _("Just call him Rhodey- literally no one calls him James nowadays." you laugh, eyes crinkling with amusement) _visits too. He doesn't linger for long, but he makes sure to check up on DAHLIA, help tend to the flowers... She'd even dare say she wishes he'd visit more often.

Peter also visits here and there as well. He often comes with Morgan and Virginia, but there have been a few occasions where he's come here by himself. He'd spend most of his time in the garden, your favorite place. And when he's alone, she'd given him privacy out of respect, but even at a long distance, she can hear him talking by himself. He'd come back eyes red and swollen, but he's always smiling afterward.

A few others have visited too, but not as often as the others. Though, none of that really helps negate the emptiness she feels as she wordlessly navigates through a routine she devoted herself to after your disappearance.

**________________________________________________________________________________**

**And the final chapter, Special (Chemically Compromised) is basically a fluff filler with (Name) chaperoning Peter's field trip, inspired by an .**

**Written in bits and pieces, unfinished. Not sure if I wanted it to be romantic (the name implies it in a nerdy way) or just a fun, platonic, "dude you're literally embarrassing me" way.**

**(Peter) **"I can't believe you're doing this...!"

**(Name) **"What? What's wrong with this?"

**Pan to (Name) dressing like he's a Typical, Normal Civilian Man, but it's clearly (Name) Stark, son of Tony Stark, and an Avenger.**

**(Peter) **"I don't need you to chaperone my field trip...! May could've done this-"

**(Name) **"No, she really couldn't, sweetheart. She's got a busy shift, and even told me that no one else's parents was free."

**(Name) **"Listen- this really could have gone worse if, say, _Tony,_ knew. God _knows_ Tony would've dropped everythin' and just embarrass ya- he did that shit to me every chance he got," Peter winces, almost forgetting that Tony was still your dad, and a chill ran up his spine as he imagined what it would have been like for you.

**(Peter) **"But still..."

**(Name) **"Don't worry, I'll just wear a cap and sunglasses."

**(Peter) **"That can't possibly work."

**(Name) **"You'd be surprised- Sam's standin' down there, right near that phone booth."

Peter's head snapped over to where you were pointing at, and indeed, right on the floors of the Manhattan streets, there was a relatively built black guy that's wearing a cap, sunglasses, and a brown leather jacket. Peter tilted his head.

He hasn't been around Sam all that much, but he still knows what the Avenger looked like. But even then, he wasn't sure if that man was actually Sam. He's built right, but Peter can't see much of his hair or eyes. Plus, he's kind of far away.

He squinted at the man, before glancing back at you, now unsure of himself.

**(Peter) **"That's really the Falcon?"

You stared at him, before snorting.

**(Name) **"Nah, I'm joshin' ya, that's just some random guy...", you glance at the man, sniffing, "... Probably."

**________________________________________________________________________________**

**That's... pretty much it. That's all I had for Restart, as far as writing goes.**

**Now here are some closing thoughts, just to wrap all of this up nice and tight, sort of.**

**I'm not really happy with how the initial chapters were paced and how they were written. My writing style has mildly changed, and if I had the motivation to, I'd love to rewrite them. But alas, I don't.**

**I think about this story often; or at least, variations of it. It's like when you daydream, and you restart it but to the left. But unfortunately, writing a plot without too many plot holes while remaining as canonically correct as possible, and making it interesting without being a complete word-by-word remake of the movies, is difficult.**

**I'm not sure if I would ever pick up this story again, especially since this whole chapter told you what I had in store anyways.**

**Thank you to those who took the time out of their day to write nice and encouraging comments about this story. It's unfortunate it had to end this way, but I'm glad it happened anyways. And hopefully, it's the same for you.**

**And remember: the one thing writers love to do is talk about their story! If you have any other comments, questions, or just general thoughts about the story, I'd love to discuss it further!**

**Anyways. If you're reading this now, thanks for sticking with Restart for as long as you did. **


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